


To Holby manor born

by fortytworedvines



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, soft romance, to the manor born au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24132865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortytworedvines/pseuds/fortytworedvines
Summary: When Edward dies and leaves Serena with a mountain of gambling debt she is forced to sell the beloved manor house that has been in her family for generations. It's bought by a retired army Major, and despite Sian and Fleur urging her to, she refuses to call. Out on a walk one day, she meets a newcomer to the village and they strike up a quick friendship. But Serena and Bernie are both hiding secrets - and what will happen when they are revealed?
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 276
Kudos: 276





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevtacular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/gifts).



> Based on [this wonderful idea of Sev's](https://slightlyintimidating.tumblr.com/post/617370281764438016/to-the-manor-born-au-serena-is-outraged-when-she).
> 
> This will be a slow wip as I'm back at work now. But it's well underway so don't fret.

Serena was disconsolately organising her wine bottles when the annoyingly perky tones of her friend Sian floated over to her.

“Serena darling! I have news!”

“I don’t want news,” Serena muttered, but nevertheless, as Sian sashayed into the room, she raised a smile.

“Well, isn’t this looking… lovely,” Sian said, gaze darting round the room. “Oh yes, news. The person who bought the manor is a Major! Retired British army, thank you!”

Serena sat down heavily and poured herself a large glass of wine. “I don’t care who he is. He’s getting my house.”

“Oh Serena,” Sian sighed, and sat next to her, “Go round. Flirt with him. You’ll be back in the manor with a new husband on your arm before you know it.”

“After the wild success of my first marriage,” Serena said drily, “I’m in no rush to enter a second. And I won’t like him.”

“Won’t you?” Sian raised a delicate eyebrow. “Well, you won’t mind if I have a shot then?”

Serena imagined Sian in her house, being the lady of the manor – _her_ job! – and shuddered. “If you must,” she muttered.

“Oh, I won’t if it’ll bother you,” Sian said easily. “Want some help with that bottle?”

Serena passed her a glass and the bottle. Alongside her clothes and a meagre amount of furniture she’d managed to save the entire contents of the wine cellar on her sad but necessary departure from the manor. She had plenty to spare, even with Sian helping. And Sian did help. A lot.

“Cheers,” Serena said, and their glasses clinked on the beginning of another such evening.

* * *

After a slow morning nursing a hangover, Serena slipped on her favourite red coat and headed out of the lodge. She might not have the manor any more but she was perfectly entitled to walk across the footpaths of the estate. And walk she would. She trudged along, trying to enjoy the warmth of the spring sunshine and ignore all the jobs that she would have been organising if she was still in her rightful place as the lady of the manor. The top lake needed draining, she recalled. This new major would never think of it.

Sunk in her reverie, she walked straight into somebody coming in the other direction.

“Oh, excuse me!” she gasped as she rocked backwards.

“No harm done.” The lady that Serena had bumped into offered a small smile and a hand. “Bernie. Lovely day for a walk, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Serena agreed. “Serena.” Bernie’s grip was strong and her handshake firm.

“You were walking like you know your way around,” Bernie said as their hands parted, “Where’s the best walk for a day like today? I’m new here and I’m just finding my feet.”

Serena thought for a moment about inviting Bernie to join her, but her head still ached and she was in no mood for polite chit chat, good though she was at it. “If you carry on down here you’ll go through the meadows to the village. It’s a pleasant walk and no chance of you getting lost.” Bernie hesitated a moment and Serena noted her messy blonde curls and the lonely look in her eyes. “Stop by the Lodge sometime and I’ll show you around,” she offered impulsively.

“Oh, thank you,” Bernie said, and the lonely look vanished for a moment. “Well, I’ll be off then. Enjoy your walk.”

Serena watched her continue down the path, hair gleaming in the sunlight, and hoped she’d meet her again on a day when she had less of a headache.

* * *

“A little bird told me you and Sian were drinking last night,” Fleur said unsympathetically as Serena lay on her sofa feeling pathetic. “You could at least have called me!”

“You know what Sian’s like,” Serena said, “Three bottles down before I even realised. What have you been up to?” She raised a curious eyebrow; Fleur was looking unusually bright.

“I’ve just popped into the Manor to pay my courtesy call.”

“Oh no, really?” Serena flopped a hand over her eyes. “Don’t tell me, the Major is an obnoxious old man with a moustache and the beginnings of a beer belly and you have your eye on his much younger, very attractive, wife. You know that would never end well.”

To Serena’s surprise, Fleur giggled. “Are you going to pay a call? It’s only polite, you know.”

“I’ll consider myself polite if I don’t murder the man,” Serena retorted. “Coming in, taking _my_ manor.”

“It’s not fair to blame the Major for that,” Fleur pointed out gently.

“I’ve blamed Edward quite a lot, but he’s dead and it’s much less satisfying. Oh Fleur,” Serena sat up and propped her head in her hands, “How did I not notice the gambling? If only I had, I would still be there, where I belong, not mouldering here in this poky little lodge. So many generations of my family lived there, right back to the civil war. And now its gone.” She looked up with an attempt at a laugh. “Sian told me I ought to make a move on the Major, get back in the manor by getting another husband. I told her what I thought of that idea.”

Fleur’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Well, you never know what might happen.”

“Oh, I know,” Serena said firmly, “I have absolutely had it with men.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena get to know each other a little better and Bernie discovers there might be more to owning the manor than she'd expected.

Bernie woke in her massive bed, stretched, and thought about the day ahead. This move, this crazy, impetuous flight to a little village in the middle of nowhere was a chance to change her life. She’d look for stables to buy a horse for Charlie to ride. Find Cameron the perfect camping spot. He’d so loved camping when he was little.

And there was organisation to do in the manor, all the boxes of paperwork belonging to her charity to sort. The morning sun streamed through the window – it was more enticing than unpacking. Bernie stretched again, and thought about going for a walk. She thought about the woman she’d met yesterday – Serena. Maybe she’d stop by the lodge and take her up on her offer. It would be nice to get to know some more people aside from the few who had dropped in to be nosey about the new occupant of the manor.

The lodge was at the end of the manor drive and Bernie assumed it had belonged to the manor once. It was a sweet little house, with the quintessential English garden. Bernie admired it from a distance, and then steeled herself to walk up to the gate. What was the worse that could happen, after all? Serena might blow her off. Nothing earth shattering. Taking her courage in hand, she opened the gate, strode up the path with an assurance that she didn’t feel, and rapped loudly at the door.

Serena opened it, and Bernie was once again struck at the quiet beauty of the woman.

There was a brief pause and then Serena said, “Bernie!”

Serena’s eyes lit up as she spoke and Bernie felt a massive sense of relief. “You – uh, you said to drop by and I didn’t have your number, so I did. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! Do you want to come in?”

“I was wondering about a walk – if you’re free?”

“Brilliant. I’ve been in all morning and it’s a beautiful day. Just hang on a moment while I get my shoes and coat.”

Bernie waited by the door as Serena disappeared. She could see into the hall and her gaze was caught by a very old portrait of a couple in civil war garb. She studied it for a moment. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on felt a little off.

Serena reappeared and noticed her gaze. “My ancestors,” she said. “Well, the brunette is.”

“A striking couple,” Bernie murmured and Serena grinned.

“Oh yes, they were. Now, did you want to go anywhere in particular?”

Bernie shook her head. “I don’t know anywhere _to_ go. Maybe you could show me one of your favourite walks?”

“That’ll be the lake.” Serena closed her front door behind her and tipped her head up to the morning sun. “Oh, that’s good. I’ve been sorting boxes all morning, it’s wonderful to get out in the open air.”

“Boxes?” Bernie queried, with just a tiny pang of conscience at the many that she had left unopened.

“Some of my daughter’s things. I have a vague hope that she’ll come and visit occasionally.”

“I know the feeling,” Bernie murmured, feeling a strong sense of kinship with Serena already, “My two would rather be anywhere than visiting their old mum. That’s one of the reasons I moved here,” she admitted, with unusual candour. “I thought the novelty might entice them.”

“The lake is a lovely place to be,” Serena said as she set off up the road, “Especially in the spring. So you think the countryside will work on your two? I’m afraid its rather the opposite with Elinor, she’d much rather be in the bright lights of the city.”

“Charlie, my daughter, always wanted to learn to ride,” Bernie said as she tramped along beside Serena, “Out here I could buy her a horse.”

“Ah, well maybe you have a chance then. How old are they?”

“Cameron, my oldest, is twenty three. Charlotte is twenty one.”

“Elinor is twenty two. Maybe having company their own age will help.”

“Yes.”

They walked along in silence for a little while, although Bernie felt that it was a comfortable one. Certainly she was more comfortable with Serena than she had been with the visitors at the manor. She remembered one of them particularly; Fleur was little and dark and had looked Bernie up and down and virtually licked her lips. Their conversation had been brief but her visit had left Bernie feeling like she was a meal about to be devoured by a hungry tiger.

“Is their dad here with you?” Serena asked suddenly.

“Ah. No. Divorced. Relatively recently. That’s one of the reasons I moved out here; for a complete change of scene. What about you?”

“Widowed.”

“Oh, no, I am sorry to hear that,” Bernie said quietly.

“Believe me, it’s no great loss. I should probably have left him years ago but – well – it’s not the done thing and I enjoyed my life while ignoring him as much as I could.”

“Was it recent?”

“A month ago.” Serena stopped suddenly. “And what a month its been. So much has changed.”

“For the better, I hope?”

“Mixed.” Serena said shortly, and Bernie didn’t press her to elaborate. At least she’d been brave enough, eventually, to leave Marcus, and she wondered whether Serena regretted not having taken the same step.

Serena stopped and pointed through the trees. “Look, we’re coming up to the lake now.”

“Oh, it is beautiful,” Bernie sighed.

The slight breeze rippled the water and made the trees that bent low over it whisper. “It’s one of my favourite places,” Serena admitted. “I usually bring bread up for the ducks. Come on.” Bernie following her closely, letting the quiet of the scenery wash over her. Half way round, Serena paused. “But look at that! The lake needs dredging every spring, because of idiotic things like this.” She pointed into the water.

“Is that – a shopping trolley?” Bernie asked as she peered into the water. “But we’re miles from a supermarket!”

“I know!” Serena said with exasperation, “But somehow they end up here.”

“Who organises the dredging?” Bernie asked, with a sudden sense of unease.

“Oh, the estate owners.”

Serena turned away as she spoke and Bernie allowed herself a grimace. “Right,” she said, “I see.” This hadn’t been mentioned in any of the documents she’d been given on purchasing the manor. She wondered, with a pang of worry, what else might be waiting in store for her. And just how did you go about organising for a lake to be dredged? She didn't want to ask Serena - after all, she hadn’t yet told Serena she’d bought the manor. It didn’t seem something she could just mention casually and she didn’t want to put up any barriers in their friendship. She’d hated how some people fawned over her already. She liked that Serena didn’t treat her that way.

But Serena was speaking again, of how her daughter had once made herself a makeshift raft and attempted to cross the lake, and Bernie turned her mind from future worries and let herself laugh.

They chatted more as they headed back to the lodge, sharing stories of their children. Bernie felt herself relax further in Serena’s company. It had been such a long time since she’d had a simple, uncomplicated friendship with a woman and she hoped that she could become Serena’s friend. She wondered if Serena felt the same way.

Perhaps she did, because when they arrived back at Serena’s little house, as she opened her gate, she turned to Bernie. “If you like I can show you more of the places around here,” she said with a smile. “I know it can be hard to adapt to village life.”

“I’d really like that,” Bernie said. “Any day in particular that’s good for you?”

“I don’t really have any plans at the moment,” Serena said, “Just give me a ring when you want to head out.” She scribbled her number down and passed the paper over to Bernie. “Here you go.”

Bernie tucked the piece of paper carefully into her pocket. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll – see you soon then?”

“See you soon,” Serena agreed. She opened the gate and headed up the little path to the house. Bernie watched her, thought how attractive she looked, dark hair and red coat against the soft flowers of spring. Serena opened her door and turned to look at the road. Bernie blushed a little to be caught watching her, raised a hand in farewell. Serena’s smile was bright as she waved back, and Bernie set out for the manor with a spring in her step, despite the ache in her back that the prolonged walk had brought on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one place to take refuge after an unexpected downpour interrupts Bernie and Serena's walk - are some carefully held secrets about to be revealed?

Serena kicked her heels disconsolately. After countless years of running the manor, she was unused to sitting around with nothing to do. Sian and Fleur could be relied on to keep her company at the weekend but they worked – as an accountant and doctor respectively – and she found herself lonely. At least there was Bernie. She perked up as she considered her new friend. She and Bernie had been on several walks now, exploring different parts of the estate and Serena found herself looking forward to more. Bernie was quiet but had a wicked sense of humour, made Serena laugh more than she had in months. And it was nice to have a friend she could spend time with without worrying about having a hangover the next day.

Fleur had called last night, bothering her more about going round to the manor to call on the new occupant. But Serena knew that she would detest anybody living in her old house and couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the place she loved changed.

Her phone rang. “Bernie!” she said gratefully, “How are you?”

“Been hard at it all morning,” Bernie said, “Fancy a stroll?”

“Very much,” Serena said with relief. “Now?”

“I’ve just got to change, be with you in quarter of an hour or so.”

* * *

Bernie hung up the phone with a smile. She’d been hard at it all morning; she’d finally got her last box unpacked and it almost felt like home. The beautiful day had been taunting her and she couldn’t wait to get out of the house and see more of the countryside. Spend more time with her new friend.

The door closed behind her with a solid thud and with the sun on her face and a spring in her step, she set out for Serena’s. She still hadn’t told Serena about the manor, or about her past in the army. It felt like a distant dream now, the days of dust and heat and hard work in Afghanistan. She touched her chest briefly; the scar there and the weakness in her spine were the two constant reminders that it hadn’t been a dream, that it had happened and that it had all ended so suddenly and painfully.

They didn’t often talk about the past at all, in fact. Bernie had noticed that Serena shied away from mentioning her life with her husband and didn’t press it. Instead they talked about their children and what they were up to and the countryside and the little badger sett that Serena had found behind the lodge.

Serena was waiting at her gate when Bernie arrived. “Woods today?” she asked and Bernie nodded assent.

The sunlight filtering through the trees and lent the woods a fairytale atmosphere. They walked past the badger sett – Bernie hoped that one night they might watch the badgers together – and on, in companionable silence.

“Oh, Bernie, look!” Serena said a long while later. She pointed. “Bluebells!” With a laugh, she left the track they’d been following and dived deeper into the trees where the blue flowers were carpeting the ground.

Bernie laughed. “What are you like?”

Serena turned to grin at her. “Oh, they’re barely out any time at all, got to enjoy them while they are.” She turned back but then stopped with a yelp.

“What’s wrong?” Bernie asked, hurrying to her side.

“Got my hair caught,” Serena said, twisting to try and free herself.

“Hang on, I’ll help.” Bernie approached carefully. Serena had managed to catch herself on a bramble and Bernie didn’t fancy joining her in her predicament. She held the bramble gingerly between the spikes and set about untangling Serena’s shiny brown locks from its grasp. “Nearly there,” she murmured as the last strands finally came free. “There you go.”

“Thank you.”

Serena turned and smiled and Bernie suddenly became aware of just how close they were standing, of how Serena’s eyes crinkled at the edge as she smiled, of the enticing red plumpness of her lips. She moved back hastily. “Maybe the bluebells are best observed from a distance?” she suggested.

“Maybe you’re right,” Serena agreed.

They’d walked around the edge of the wood and were half way across a field when, out of nowhere, the heavens opened.

Bernie grabbed Serena’s hand, already damp with rain. “Come on,” she said, “Lets run.”

“I don’t run,” Serena spluttered, but Bernie pulled her forward and together they hastened, soaked to the skin, through the fields. "Where are we going?" Serena gasped as they ran, “My house isn’t this way."

“But mine is,” Bernie shouted, pushing back the sodden tendrils of hair from her forehead to see more clearly.

“But -” Serena protested, but her words were lost in the downpour. Bernie tugged her on until soon she could see, with more thankfulness than she had ever beheld the building before, the hazy outline of the manor ahead.

Suddenly there was a jerk and Serena stopped dead. “What are you waiting for?” Bernie said, puzzled, as she turned back to face her. “We’re nearly there. Come on.” She squeezed Serena’s hand tightly and smiled through the rain. “We’ll be home and dry in no time.” She was thankful when Serena started moving again; despite the earlier warmth of the day she was chilled to the bone. After years of dry heat, she felt very unsuited to English rain.

“Glad I left the verandah doors unlocked,” she said, pulling them open as she spoke. “Well, here we are. I’ll go and get us some towels and we can get out of our damp things. Then how about coffee?” She glanced worriedly at Serena. Serena was, like her, soaked to the skin, but she was standing with a very odd expression on her face, gazing around the large living room. “I’m – sorry I didn’t mention before. Surprise?” Serena still didn’t speak, and Bernie frowned to herself. “I’ll be right back.” Maybe getting warm and dry would cheer her up.

Despite her back protesting loudly, Bernie made it up the stairs and back in record time. “Here you are,” she said, handing over a towel to Serena, who was still stood motionless in the living room.

Serena jumped. “Oh, thank you.”

“Bathroom’s just through there on the right. Why don’t you go and get changed. Here, I brought you some clothes. I know we’re slightly different shapes but I think they’ll fit.” Bernie passed her a bundle she’d grabbed from her now thankfully organised drawers. Serena gave her a tiny smile and Bernie found her hands, squeezed them encouragingly. “You’ll feel better when you’re warm and dry.”

“Thank you,” Serena murmured. “I’ll – I’ll just get changed then.”

Bernie watched her go, then grabbed her own towel and change of clothes and headed for the kitchen. She filled up the kettle and then thankfully stripped out of her sodden clothes, towelled herself vigorously dry until she could feel the warmth coming off her skin, and slipped into the dry ones. The kettle boiled and she made two large cups of coffee, then, with a flash of inspiration, grabbed the pastries she had left over from breakfast, and piled it all onto a tray.

Serena was perched uncomfortably on the edge of a sofa when Bernie entered the living room. “Please, make yourself at home,” Bernie said, smiling at her. “Are you feeling better now?”

“A little, thanks.”

“I wasn’t sure how you took it, but I thought strong and hot couldn’t be wrong on a day like today.”

Serena laughed slightly. “You’re not wrong. Thank you.”

“And a croissant, if you like?”

“Thanks.”

Bernie took her own and settled onto her armchair. She noted the way that Serena’s eyes flitted around the room. “It’s a lovely house, this. And I was lucky to buy so much of the contents with it. I could never have decorated it so beautifully.”

“You like it, then?” Serena’s voice sounded oddly unsteady.

“Wouldn’t you?” Bernie queried.

Serena set her coffee mug down with a thud. “Bernie – I –.” Bernie was startled to see her eyes filled with tears. “I have to go. Sorry.” She stood, opened her mouth as if she was about to speak but then closed it again abortively, turned and almost ran into the hall.

“Serena!” Bernie called after her, but she moved too slowly and by the time she made it to the front door, Serena was half way down the drive, having almost knocked over a bemused Fleur on her way.

Bernie watched her go then turned, with an inward sigh, to Fleur, who was staring at her open mouthed.

“Well!” said Fleur, “What was all that about?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleur and Sian to the rescue.

Serena made it back to the safety of her cottage, banged the door shut behind her and poured herself a glass of wine with hands that shook. It wasn’t fair of Bernie, to spring that on her. She took a large gulp, and then another. It had looked just the same. It had felt the same. But it wasn’t hers any more and oh, how that hurt.

Why had Bernie never said, in all their walks, that the house that she’d moved into was the Manor? And who was this Major that Fleur and Sian had talked about? Was _Bernie_ the Major? They’d talked about so much in their chats but now Serena felt as if she barely knew the woman.

Half a bottle down and the thought flitted across her mind that she could have spared herself some of the hurt if she’d swallowed her pride and told Bernie about losing the family house – and fortune – but she chased it away with another glass.

* * *

“Well?” Fleur said brightly, “Are you going to invite me in?”

Bernie stared at her, then back at the drive, where Serena was no longer visible. “Um.”

“I’m Serena’s best friend,” Fleur said gently. “Tell me what’s happened and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Bernie stood, hopelessly, back from the door and let Fleur in.

“I am curious,” Fleur said as she seated herself comfortably on the sofa, “I didn’t know you two were friends. She’s been refusing point blank to call here.”

“But – why?” Bernie perched on the edge of the armchair, a safe distance from Fleur’s roving hands. “We’re friends. I _thought_ we were friends,” she amended, looking down at her lap, “We bumped into each other out by the stream and we’ve been going for walks together since.”

“And has she been here before?”

“No. And I didn’t – I didn’t tell her I bought the place.”

“Ah,” Fleur said, “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“But I don’t understand why she would be so upset about it?”

Fleur raised her eyebrows. “Have you been walking in silence? Good grief, the pair of you.”

“How about,” Bernie said, with an attempt at patience, “I make us both a coffee and you tell me what Serena has been keeping so quiet about?”

Fleur considered for a moment, then nodded. “You ought to know, and it’s probably better you hear it from me than from village gossip.”

Over coffee Fleur told Bernie the sad story of Serena’s marriage to Edward, a feckless womaniser who turned out to be a gambler as well, of how the manor had been sold to cover the debts he’d racked up. Bernie sipped her coffee and listened in silence, wondering inwardly at how much Serena had had to put up with, only to have everything she knew ripped from her just when she thought she was safe.

“She danced, you know,” Fleur said, as she wound the tale up. “She’d just buried Edward and we were walking back to the manor, the two of us and Sian. And she stopped out of sight of the church and danced for joy.”

“God,” Bernie mumbled. “How on earth can I put things right with her? I’d hate me, if I was her.”

Fleur sighed. “Wine usually works, but I have a feeling that’s not what she’ll want from you. I know she’s worried about the estate falling into disrepair. You could do something about that.”

Bernie looked at Fleur curiously. “You really do want us to be friends. Why?”

“Just a hunch,” Fleur said, and winked.

* * *

“It’s a work night,” Serena said as she opened the door to Sian and Fleur.

“Darling, you nearly ran me down on the manor drive. We’ve come to talk.”

“And drink,” Sian added, “I even brought a bottle.”

“Wonders will never cease,” Serena muttered as she let them in. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No?” Fleur grabbed the bottle opener from the kitchen and then headed to the living room to settle herself on the sofa. “Not about the crushing pain you felt when you realised that your new friend is the person who’s living in your beloved manor?”

“Stop it,” Serena snarled, sank onto the other end of the sofa and curled herself into a ball around the ache of loss in her stomach.

“Drink,” Sian said, and passed her a glass. “So what’s she like?” she asked Fleur, “This Bernie?”

“Friendly,” Fleur said, “Quiet. Lonely, I think. And I’m pretty certain she’s batting on my team.”

“She lied to me,” Serena interjected, her voice bitter.

“No, she didn’t,” Fleur said gently. “She omitted some facts – but so did you.”

“She’s there, in my house,” Serena went on, not listening to a word Fleur was saying, “The paintings I collected are still hanging. She’s sitting on my furniture. With her _legs_.”

“Her – legs?” Sian exchanged a bemused glance with Fleur.

“Her legs.” Serena was well into her second bottle of the day. “So long. Too long. And her hair. All – blonde. And messy. Does she own a hairbrush? I should have left mine for her, she’s got everything else. I’ll post it to her tomorrow.” The room was beginning to look ever so blurry, and her head hurt.

“Maybe that’s enough of the wine,” Fleur said and pulled the glass carefully from Serena’s fingers. Serena protested and tried to cling on to it, but gave up the fight easily, let Sian settle her down on the sofa and Fleur cover her with a throw.

“Thank you,” she whispered as her eyes closed. She drifted off to sleep with the soft tones of her worried friends floating over her head.

* * *

Bernie spent the evening flicking through a yellow pages that Fleur had dug out for her from under the kitchen sink. It was well worn, entries highlighted and pages turned down. She jotted down notes as she went and she was fairly certain she had a good plan of attack for the morning. She didn’t sleep well that night, dreams full of a crying Serena. She hated how much she’d hurt her, even if it was entirely accidental. When she woke, she was full of determination to make Serena happier and once she was through with breakfast, she pulled the yellow pages back to her, sat down by the phone and prepared herself for a morning of phone calls.

* * *

Serena woke on her sofa with a crick in her neck and a hollow thumping in her head that reminded her she’d drunk far too much wine and not enough water the day before.

“Ah, there you are,” Sian said, and a mug of coffee found its way carefully into Serena’s hands.

“Thanks,” she said as she sat up slowly and gingerly. “Oh, that’s better.” She sipped slowly and the fog in her head cleared a little. “You’re still here?”

Sian sat down opposite her with her own coffee. “Fleur had to go in but I’m taking the morning off.”

“Why?”

“To look after you, idiot, why do you think?”

“I don’t _need_ looking after,” Serena mumbled petulantly.

“Well, you need to do something,” Sian said, bluntly. “Get out the house, get a job, go on some dates, anything but sitting here every day stewing over what you’ve lost.”

“Get a job? What sort of job? I’m qualified to do nothing but run an estate and mine’s gone. And,” she said, rubbing a hand across her aching head, “What on earth is that noise?!”

Sian stood and peered out of the window, then laughed. “Oh, Fleur was right. Well, somebody listened to what you were saying about the lake. Come and look.”

Serena moved slowly and wearily to the window and then stood still in amazement. Down the track from the lake rumbled a whole procession of shopping trolleys.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie and Serena talk things out and their friendship seems to be back on track. Bernie makes a big decision about the manor.

Bernie smiled with satisfaction as she inspected the now trolley-free waters of the lake. There was something to be said for a job well done, even if her part had only been in the organising.

Wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t realise her solitude had been interrupted until a soft cough made her look up. “Serena?”

Serena shifted awkwardly. “I suppose we should talk.”

“I suppose we should.”

A long silence followed. Bernie wasn’t sure how to break it, turned instead to stare out across the water.

“Sorry,” Serena said eventually.

Bernie looked at her sharply. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

“Running out on you like that.”

“Understandable, given the circumstances. Ah – you should know, Fleur told me about the – uh – circumstances.”

“I’ve said some awful things about you.” Serena sat down heavily on a fallen tree trunk that formed a handy seat.

Bernie moved hesitantly, leant against the tree next to her. “I’m not thrilled about that, but I understand. I do understand, Serena.”

Another silence followed. The tree was sturdy and the bark was rough against Bernie’s back. She looked down at Serena’s head, brown hair gleaming in the sunshine, almost leant forward to stroke it. Instead she let her fingers follow the gnarled patterns of the bark, and didn’t move.

“I know it’s not your fault,” Serena said quietly.

“And it’s not yours either.”

Serena twisted around and stared up at her. “I married the man, and he gambled everything away. Four centuries of ancestors are blaming me.”

Bernie couldn’t help herself, and laughed out loud. “Really?”

“I fully expect to be visited by angry ghosts,” Serena said solemnly, then met Bernie’s eyes and laughed too. “Thank you, though.” She made a movement to stand and Bernie automatically offered her hand, felt her fingers, warm and gentle against her own, and pulled her carefully to her feet.

“And I should say thank you for sorting this out,” Serena added, gesturing at the sparkling waters. “I know it sounds silly, but it really has helped me feel better.”

“You’re very welcome,” Bernie said softly. “I’m going to do my best here, Serena. I won’t let things fall apart.” She suddenly realised that she was still holding Serena’s hand and dropped it swiftly, tried not to feel a pang of loss.

“Well, if you need any help, you know where I am.”

“Do you really mean that?”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Serena nodded. “I do.”

They wandered round the lake quietly. Bernie enjoyed the peaceful sounds of the birds in the trees and the soft tramp of Serena’s footsteps. It would be easy – so, incredibly easy…

“Would you like to come to mine for a cup of coffee?” she asked, impetuously. “Only, I mean, only if you want to. You don’t have to.”

Serena glanced at her and Bernie noted the tiny little frown lines that had appeared on her forehead. “Maybe another time.”

“Okay,” Bernie agreed easily. It was too soon to have asked, she knew, but somehow she couldn’t stop herself.

“I’ve got things to do,” Serena said suddenly. “I’ll see you soon, Bernie.” She turned and rushed down the path that led back to the village. Bernie watched her go and sighed a little for the loss of her company.

Bernie wandered back over the fields towards the manor. It was a beautiful day and despite the paperwork waiting for her, she was in no rush. Or perhaps she was in no rush _because_ of the paperwork. How she detested it. But her charity was doing such important work, funding field hospitals all over Africa, that it was almost worth it. One day she’d go out, visit everywhere from Nairobi to Sudan, see the work of the medics that her charity was supporting. She hopped up onto a stile and swung herself down without thinking, and the sudden dart of pain down her back reminded her why she wasn’t a medic any more.

She slowed her pace further but by the time she made it back to the manor her back was aching badly and she lay thankfully on the floor of the hall, hoping that a little rest would ease it. From where she lay she could see the stairs, beautiful, old wood, running up from the centre of the hall to the landing that ran around the oldest section of the manor. She’d never manage them if her back got bad again.

“A lift,” she mumbled to herself. That was what she needed. Just in case. A little lift so she could get herself up and down.

* * *

Serena didn’t have things to do. She sat on her sofa, head still a little fuzzy, and pondered her unexpected offer of help to Bernie. She’d not planned to offer her help. Hadn’t really thought of anything aside from a vague apology for running out on her and a thanks for clearing the lake. But somehow Bernie drew her in, kept her coming back for more. If only she hadn’t moved into the manor they could have had such an easy friendship. Not, Serena thought, as she sipped her water, a friendship like she had with Fleur and Sian. That seemed to revolve far too much around alcohol at the moment.

Bernie had looked so beautiful, at the lake earlier. Serena was perfectly able to appreciate beauty in all its forms but there was something particularly enticing about Bernie. She wanted to run her fingers through those curls, see if they felt as soft as they looked. She wanted to caress her cheekbones, stroke her pink lips.

She shook her head, clearing Bernie from her thoughts, and put the tv on.

* * *

The company that Bernie got hold of, thanks to the old yellow pages, came out promptly the next morning. She had made it out of bed and downstairs but with enough difficulty that she knew that a lift was necessary.

Together she and the men scoped out the best place to put a tiny two person lift in. Thanks to the open design of the hall they’d be able to manage it with minimal damage to the woodwork, just taking out a section of the bannister on the top floor. Bernie was grateful for that. It might not be her four hundred year family heritage on the line but it was _a_ heritage; _Serena’s_ heritage.

The phone started ringing at lunch time. Five calls in an hour left her frowning at her notepad and her calendar. Before the phone could ring again she lifted the receiver and dialled the only local number she knew by heart.

“Serena?” she said as Serena answered, “About that help, well – the phone’s been off the hook this afternoon. I’ve got –” she glanced down at her scrawled notes – “A gymkhana, a guide jamboree and sheep dog trials, for starters. What is a jamboree? The lady wouldn’t tell me.”

Serena laughed and the sound of it made Bernie let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Just a big camp for Guides from all over the country.”

“Can I say no?”

“Nobody ever says no to Ms Naylor,” Serena informed her, and Bernie could imagine the smile on her face.

“Not even you?”

“Nobody,” Serena said firmly. “There isn’t much you have to do, really. They’ll organise it, you just have to make sure the sheep are out of the field.”

“Oh.” Bernie relaxed a little.

“I used to go along to all of them, of course. It is expected.”

“Oh,” Bernie said, again.

“They’re good fun, you might enjoy them. I’ll be at the Jamboree in an official capacity. I’m the County Commissioner.”

“And what is Ms Naylor?”

“Terrifying,” Serena said with a laugh. “It’s her job, has been for years. Nobody is brave enough to suggest she lets anybody else take over.”

“So I don’t have to worry about these things? Just make sure the fields are clear?”

“Yes. Apart from the village fete of course, but you’ll know all about that already.” Serena’s tone was breezy but a dart of panic ran through Bernie.

“The village _what_?!”

“Fete. End of August. Lord of the manor organises it, and that’s you, now. Did you not know?”

“Me?” Bernie said faintly, “I have to organise a fete? I’ve never even _been_ to a fete! Serena...”

She trailed off. Surely it would be too much to ask. But there was a faint huff of laughter at the other end. “Just ask me, Bernie.”

Bernie curled her fingers around the phone cord. “Would you help me?”

“With pleasure.”


	6. Chapter 6

“What’s all this?” Bernie asked, surveying the piles of folders on Serena’s kitchen table.

“This is what several decades worth of running the Manor looks like,” Serena said, and passed Bernie a cup of coffee. “You didn’t think it was easy, did you?”

“I didn’t really think at all,” Bernie mumbled, and sat down opposite Serena. “Where do we start?”

Serena sorted through the pile. “Here’s the folder for the fete.” She handed it over to Bernie, who flicked through it curiously. “You’ve got names and organisations to contact, what stalls you need, a basic timetable, layout of the field, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Wow.”

“I updated it every few years. The older folk tend to die inconveniently and then it’s a case of roping in somebody new and trying to cling on to them.”

“And when do I need to start working on this?” Bernie asked, thinking with a sinking heart about the amount of work she needed to do with her charity, and wondering how hard it would be to juggle everything.

“Oh, the week before you moved in, probably,” Serena said, a small grin lighting her face.

Bernie dropped the folder. “Serena!”

“But you have very sensibly asked me for help, so you’ll be okay.”

Bernie ran her hands through her hair. “Serena, I don’t have time.” She could feel a headache coming on. “I’m beginning to think this was all a rather big mistake,” she admitted quietly.

Bernie looked more tired than Serena had ever seen her before, a picture of dejection with her fingers sunk into blonde curls – oh, those curls! Without thinking, she leant across the table, detached one of Bernie’s hands gently from her hair and held it. “It’ll be alright, Bernie. I promise. I’ve organised it every year for more than I care to remember, I’ll do it again.” She squeezed Bernie’s fingers a little, then let go reluctantly.

Bernie raised her head and met Serena’s gaze. “I can’t ask you to do all of it,” she said, “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“If we’re talking about what’s fair, it wasn’t fair for you to buy the place without being told about your obligations to the village.”

“Perhaps,” Bernie mumbled.

“And, if you watch what I do this year, then next year you’ll have a good idea of how to do more of it yourself.”

“Next year!” Bernie’s mouth dropped open slightly.

Serena raised an eyebrow. “Why, were you thinking of being somewhere else?” An odd sort of panic gripped her at the idea of Bernie leaving.

“No, well. I don’t usually stay anywhere for that long. It’s just – how it’s been.”

There was a soft, sad note in Bernie’s voice and Serena reached for her again, covered her hand and stroked it gently with her thumb. “Tell me about it sometime?”

Bernie looked away again. “It’s not a very pretty tale.”

“When you’re ready, I’ll listen,” Serena said. Bernie looked up and she held her gaze. For endless seconds they stared at each other, until Bernie cleared her throat and Serena, startled, dropped her hand and moved away.

“Well,” she said brightly, “Best get on.”

* * *

It had been a pleasant week, Serena thought as she walked slowly up the manor drive. She’d felt almost like her old self, tackling the fete, and Bernie had brought round her paperwork and they’d sat together at Serena’s kitchen table, drinking coffee, eating pastries and working their way through their separate piles of paper. It had felt companionable. Comfortable. Sometimes, when Bernie had gazed off into the distance and Serena had let her eyes linger on her hair, her collarbones, it had felt like something else entirely.

They hadn’t arranged to meet today, but she’d been putting off visiting the manor for far too long. Time to bite the bullet and get it over and done with. A van sped past her half way up the drive and she frowned.

“Know where the lady is?” one of the men from the van asked her abruptly as she reached the house.

Serena shook her head. “No, sorry. Is she not in?”

“Not answering the door.”

“Is she expecting you?”

The man looked at his watch and shrugged. “We’re a bit early. Thought we could get a bit more done today than we planned.”

“Sorry, what done?” Serena asked. She glanced at the van. _Home renovations_.

“We’re fitting a lift. About time, if you ask me. All these old places need some modern conveniences.”

Serena stood stock still in horror. A lift. A lift! In her beautiful old house! And Bernie hadn’t even had the courtesy to mention it.

“You alright?” the man asked gruffly.

“I have to go,” Serena said, and for the second time since she’d met Bernie, she found herself fleeing down the drive.

She couldn’t bear to think of the damage a lift would to do the manor. Ripping out old floors and panelling. Priceless history would be lost. Her house ruined.

She made it back to the lodge and almost uncorked a bottle of her favourite Shiraz before she thought better of it and opened a cheap red instead. She was going to get drunk, and she wouldn’t waste the good stuff on that.

* * *

Bernie had allowed herself an unusually leisurely morning. She got out of the shower slowly, to save her back, and towelled herself carefully dry. She was just dressing when she heard men’s voices float up on the breeze. The builders – early, naturally. She scrambled into her clothes and hastened down the stairs.

“Oh, there you are,” the older one said.

“Yes. You’re early.”

“Thought we’d get cracking. You had a visitor, but she left.”

“Ran,” the younger one put in.

A visitor? A chill ran through Bernie. “Did she give a name?”

“Nah. About your age, brown hair, fancy coat.”

“Hot,” the younger one supplied.

Bernie licked suddenly dry lips. “Did she say anything?”

“Nah. Asked what we were up to and then ran away.”

“And you told her?” Bernie ran a hand through her hair distractedly.

“Didn’t realise the lift was a secret,” he shrugged. “Shall we get on?”

Bernie stared down the drive, jumped as he coughed. “Okay.” She’d ring Serena. Explain. Promise that the lift really wouldn’t hurt the manor, that she wasn’t recklessly hacking apart Serena’s old home.

“I’ve just got to make a phone call and I’ll be with you.”

_Please answer, please answer_ , she chanted to herself as she dialled Serena’s number.

“Hello?”

“Serena – it’s B-”

But there was a click and the phone went dead. Bernie put her head in her hands and groaned.

* * *

Serena hung up before Bernie could even say her name. She didn’t want to talk to her right now – she’d probably say things she’d regret. She was sad and tired and so very angry. After all Bernie’s promises about looking after the place, this was what she was getting up to! And behind her back! She lay miserably on the sofa in her living room, trying to let the terrible daytime television distract her, as she made her way slowly through her first bottle.

The phone rang periodically but she didn’t answer it and in the end she took it off the hook. She didn’t want to talk to anybody, and especially not to Berenice bloody Wolfe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A book and a bridge draw Bernie and Serena back together. (Or "By the sword remembered")

It was early evening and Serena was dozing on the sofa when a loud banging forced her to open her eyes.  
“Serena!” Fleur shouted through the letter box, “Are you okay?”

There was a slight scuffle and then she heard Sian.

“We’re worried about you,” Sian called.

Serena swung herself gingerly off the sofa and staggered to the door to let them in. “Mmm,” she said and returned to the sofa. “Why?” she asked as she slumped back down again.

“Your phone’s been off the hook all day.” Fleur perched beside Serena and ran her fingers gently through Serena’s hair. “What’s Bernie done now?”

“How’d you know it’s about Bernie?” Serena mumbled.

“Call it an educated guess,” Fleur said.

Sian took the remaining dregs of the wine through into the kitchen and poured them down the sink. “That’s enough of that.”

Serena glared at her. “How times change.”

“Well, what’s she done?” Fleur asked again.

“Putting in a lift,” Serena said shortly. “Didn’t even tell me.” She buried her head in the sofa.

“Has she explained why?”

“The phone was off the hook,” Sian pointed out, “She hasn’t had a chance to explain, has she, Serena?”

Serena glared at her again. “What’s to explain?”

Sian and Fleur’s eyes met over Serena’s head. “Pointless talking to her in this mood,” Fleur said.

“Put her to bed?” Sian suggested.

“I’m not a child,” Serena snarled, as Fleur nodded.

“Of course you’re not,” Fleur said soothingly, as Sian passed Serena a glass of water.

“Drink this all up,” Sian said, “and let’s get you upstairs.”

“And you know what,” Serena said as she reluctantly drank the water, “That bridge on the shortcut to the manor? Completely rotten through. It’s going to collapse the next person who goes across it.” She looked up at her friends. “Do go back that way, why don’t you.”

* * *

Bernie trailed miserably around the manor. Serena’s phone was still engaged. Serena didn’t want to talk to her yet, that was for certain, because nobody could be on the phone for thirteen hours solidly.

She wandered slowly upstairs, to the spot where the lift would be put in. She traced her fingers over the wood of the bannisters, feeling rather than seeing the ornate tracery. She’d save it, of course.

She slumped down on the floor and sighed, tried to let the patterns under her fingers soothe her. She felt an odd bump, a knot in the wood, and pressed it firmly. There was a soft click, and something under her shifted.

With a sudden thrill of excitement, she moved and saw a floorboard had lifted slightly. She eased it up and looked in the little space underneath. There was something there and her heart bounded with excitement. She fished in the space and drew out a small, leather bound book. It felt – and smelt – old, and she opened it gingerly. The writing was a childish scrawl but legible enough.

_Jason – my diary_

The first line of the next page, with no preamble, said _We had pigeon pie for dinner. Uncle has gone to fight. Aunty Serena pretends to be sad but she isn’t._ _The pigeon pie was really nice._

Bernie noted the names with interest – Serena said her family had lived here for generations, perhaps this was an ancestor of hers. And what war was her husband fighting in? Bernie flicked through the next pages, trying to find a clue.

_Master Levy says I should write about the war. I think it’s boring. Some people are fighting to support the King, and some people think that Parliament should be in charge. Beef pie for dinner was not as good as pigeon pie. I was upset, but Aunty Serena told me that we could only have pigeon pie once a week, or we would eat all the pigeons._

A diary of the civil war! Bernie laughed a little that Jason had been more interested in his food than the major events of the day – but then her own children weren’t so dissimilar. She’d have to take this to show Serena. Perhaps this was the olive branch she needed to get Serena to talk to her again. It had only been a day but already she was missing Serena’s presence and the way she smiled at her. She’d take her the diary tomorrow morning, and make friends again.

Despite her desperate curiosity, Bernie didn’t read any more of the diary that evening, feeling somehow that Serena deserved to look through it first. After a restless night’s sleep, she got up bright and early, had a cup of coffee, successfully resisted a cigarette, and packed the book carefully into her bag to take over to Serena’s. She went the long way round – it was very early – and enjoyed the freshness of the early summer morning.

Serena opened her door at Bernie’s knock and immediately tried to close it again. Bernie jammed her foot in the doorway to hold it open.

“Serena, wait.” She stared at the other woman, sighed inwardly at the implacable resolve she saw in her face. “I found something, last night. I thought you might like to see it?” There was a tiny hint of interest in Serena’s face and she pulled the book carefully out of her bag. “It’s an old diary.” Serena took it silently and Bernie managed a tiny smile. “Well, enjoy it.”

Serena still said nothing, so Bernie smiled again and left. At the end of the garden path she paused. She could go home along the road or take the short cut through the fields and then go and explore the badger sett a bit. It seemed a waste to go home now, so she turned towards the short cut.

* * *

Serena closed the door behind Bernie and looked at the book in her hands. She should have said something, she’d been incredibly rude to Bernie, but she couldn’t make any words come out. She flicked the diary open to a random page. A child’s diary, by the handwriting.

_Today some cavalier soldiers arrived. Aunty Serena says we have to be well behaved so they don’t make trouble for us._

Serena gasped and turned to stare up at the portrait she’d saved from the manor. This could only be that Serena, her namesake. And this diary would cover the period of her family history that she was most curious about. She dashed to the door to call Bernie back, tell her what it was that she’d found, but Bernie wasn’t visible on the road. She must have taken – _damn_.

Serena vaguely remembered suggesting that Fleur and Sian take the shortcut over the stream last night, but she didn’t really want anybody to be on the bridge in the state it was in. She put the book carefully on the table in the hall and ran after Bernie.

* * *

Bernie strolled along the path and tried not to think about her reception at Serena’s house. At least she had a pretext to call around again. She paused on the bridge over the stream and leant against the wooden rail, appreciating the view. There was a tiny movement beneath her feet, then a crack, and then she was falling helplessly, her heart in her mouth.

It was only a second before she hit the water with a splash, and her feet thumped against the river bed, jarring her spine so badly that she cried out. She stayed upright with a struggle, thanked the dry weeks that had left the stream only knee deep.

Gritting her teeth against the shooting agony in her back, she struggled to the steep bank. She gripped some overhanging grasses and took a breath. “Come on Wolfe, you can do it.” The grass was slippery under her grip and she was despairing when suddenly a firm hand grasped hers.

“I’ve got you, Bernie.” She looked up into Serena’s worried eyes. “After three, and I’ll pull, okay?” Serena said, and Bernie nodded. Serena counted down and then Bernie kicked herself up with all her might and Serena dragged her onto the bank.

“Thanks,” Bernie mumbled, face down on the grass.

“I’m sorry,” Serena blurted, “Bernie, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Bernie managed to raise her head a little to look up at her. “Could you help me up, do you think? I’m not sure I can stand.”

“What’s wrong?” Serena knelt by her, slung an arm around her shoulders.  
“My back,” Bernie gasped. “Old injury.” She braced herself against Serena, and with Serena supporting her, managed to struggle to her feet, where she swayed and would have fallen again if Serena hadn’t put a deceptively strong arm around her waist.

“Let’s get you to mine, okay?” Serena said.

Bernie wanted to object but she knew that Serena’s was about as far as she was going to make, even with Serena’s help. At least, a small part of her thought, Serena was talking to her again.

By the time they reached Serena’s house, Bernie was ready to collapse. Even Serena’s support was barely keeping her going.

“Help me to lie down,” she gasped as they finally made it into Serena’s living room. Serena lowered her gently to the floor and Bernie sighed with relief at the solid feel of it at her back. “Thank you for coming after me,” she said as Serena stepped away.

“It was my fault,” Serena said. She sat down on the chair nearest to Bernie. “I knew that bridge was about to collapse. I should have said.”

“It’s my responsibility to look after upkeep. It’s my fault.”

“If we want to be really pedantic about it,” Serena said after a moment, “Then it’s Edward’s fault.”

“Edward’s?!”

“For dying.”

Bernie laughed. “Edward’s fault it is. Seems fair.” She tried to move and wince. “I’m sorry, I hope you didn’t have any plans for this bit of floor for the next few hours.”

“You stay here as long as you need,” Serena said softly. “I’ll get you some towels. And do you want a drink? Could you manage something with a straw?”

“That would be nice, thank you.” It was odd conversing with Serena when she couldn’t see her.

She heard Serena leave the room and a few minutes later a glass with a straw in was placed by her side.

“I’ll get your shoes off, shall I? Good thing you’re wearing shorts.” Bernie closed her eyes and clenched her jaw to avoid squeaking as Serena drew her soaked shoes and socks carefully off. “There you go.”

Bernie sighed a little as Serena tucked warm towels carefully around her legs. “That feels better already.” She paused for a second. “This is why I needed the lift.”

“We don’t have to talk about that,” Serena said.

“No, we do. I should have told you straight away. I’m sorry. When I was blown up I injured my back badly. It took a lot of physio to get me mostly working again and since I’ve been out here I’ve been putting more strain on it and its been playing up. I needed the lift so I didn’t wake up one morning and find I couldn’t get downstairs.” She paused and desperately wished she could see Serena’s face. “It’s a very small lift and we’re being very careful of the manor. I promise.”

Serena heaved a deep sigh. “Water under the bridge.” Then she snorted. “Too soon?”

Bernie laughed and relaxed a little.

“The book you found, it’s incredible. Have you read any of it?”

“A page or two. I thought you should be the one to read it first properly.”

“Shall we read it together now?”

“That would be lovely,” Bernie said softly. Despite the inconvenience and pain of her back, maybe it would be worth it to spend the day in Serena’s company.

Serena fetched the book from the hall and returned to the living room, pausing in the doorway to look at Bernie. She was lying on the floor with her eyes closed, cheeks drawn. Even like that, there was no denying she was an attractive woman. Serena blinked her thoughts away and settled down on the sofa, opened the book.

“Jason was Serena’s nephew,” she said, tracing the name on the first page. “I’ve read a little about him. I’m endlessly fascinated by that period of my family history. I’m named after that Serena, you know. And I named Elinor after her daughter. Edward thought it was strange.”

Bernie huffed. “I don’t really care what he thought. I should warn you that in the couple of entries I read, Jason was more concerned about what his dinner was than anything else.”

“Pigeon pie,” Serena laughed. “Well then, shall we read?”

Despite his preoccupation with his food, Jason was an entertaining storyteller. Serena found herself gripped by the tale of cavalier soldiers arriving at the manor and Bernie listened in enthralled quiet.

Serena turned another page. “ _Aunty Serena is in love with the Captain. I know because I heard Morven and Jasmine talking about it._ _When the Captain and I were playing chess he kept staring at her. He missed some very obvious moves. I beat him more quickly than usual._ ”

“I feel like we’re getting the juicy gossip several centuries late,” Bernie laughed.

Over the next pages, Jason bemoaned the lack of pigeon pie and talked about daily life in the manor. But then he suddenly seemed sad.

“ _The Captain isn’t playing chess with me any more. He doesn’t come and sit with us in the evening. Aunty Serena won’t talk about him._ ”

“What’s happened?” Bernie asked in desperate curiosity, but it seemed that Jason never knew, as he didn’t enlighten them.

Jason wrote in gory detail about a small skirmish “his” soldiers had been involved in and the injuries sustained.

“You can definitely tell he’s a young lad, can’t you,” Serena mused.

Serena made lunch for herself and Bernie, and Bernie managed to eat it one-handed while still lying on the floor, and then they read on. They read about the soldiers leaving the manor and the depression that Jason’s aunt fell into. And then, with utter astonishment, they read of the return of the Captain – as a woman.

“What?!” Serena gasped after she read the entry in which Jason described his conversation with the Captain, about how she was actually a woman and had disguised herself so she could fight. “Oh – Bernie! Wait here!”

“I can’t actually go anywhere,” Bernie said with a laugh.

Serena dashed into the hall and came back with the portrait that hung there.

“Look!” Serena held the portrait up so that Bernie could inspect it. “There!”

Bernie had felt there was something slightly off about the portrait the first time she’d seen it. Now she inspected it closely. “Serena is the brunette – the family resemblance is astonishing,” she remarked, glancing at her friend. “And the man...” she trailed off.

“Isn’t! It’s a man’s get up. Doublet, breeches, hat… But...”

“It’s a woman wearing them,” Bernie finished. Now she knew, it was obvious. “They stayed together then,” she said quietly.

Serena propped the picture carefully in the corner and stared at it. “So they did. This is dated twelve years after the war ended.”

“That must have been risky.”

From her prone position on the floor, Bernie couldn’t see Serena’s face. “Maybe they thought it was worth it, no matter what other people thought.” Her voice was thick with sorrow.

“Serena?” Bernie stretched out her hand carefully towards her. “Serena, come here.” Serena’s fingers slipped into Bernie’s and Bernie squeezed her hand tightly. “What’s wrong?”

“They were braver than I ever could be. All my life wasted, because I wasn’t brave enough to leave Edward.”  
“Not all your life, Serena.” Bernie tugged Serena and Serena sat at the floor by her head. “You’re still young.”

“Young,” Serena snorted.

“Plenty of time to be brave now,” Bernie said softly. She thought briefly of Alex, the woman she’d loved from afar. “I know I want to be.”

“I’d like that.”

Silence fell in the room as they sat holding hands with Serena and her Captain looking at them from centuries past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read the full story of Serena and her Cavalier Captain in the [Right and Romantic series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602070) (with less emphasis on pigeon pie).  
> Flimflam [drew them](https://flimflam-draws-the-line.tumblr.com/post/182580605862/a-departure-from-the-usual-animals-and-daemons-my) as well.


	8. Chapter 8

The long day that Bernie spent lying on Serena’s living room floor changed things between them, Bernie mused as she lay in bed the next morning, pondering the day ahead. It felt like the air was finally clear between them; their secrets were out in the open and they’d resolved on honesty and openness in the future. She glanced at her clock. Serena was coming round in an hour to carry on work on the fete, and she’d offered to pick up some of the manor duties that Bernie had left neglected. Bernie climbed carefully out of bed, felt the solid wooden floor under her bare feet. It was time to get moving.

* * *

Serena walked slowly up the drive to the manor and for the first time in months her head felt clear and her heart light. Yesterday she and Bernie had talked about all the things they should have done before and Serena felt she’d finally made peace with losing her house and her heritage.

And when she’d gone to bed she’d laid there for a while, thinking about the warmth of Bernie’s hand in hers.

Bernie greeted her at the door with a bright smile, and in the early morning sun Serena thought how beautiful she looked. “How are you doing today?” she asked, instead of saying that.

“Stiff and sore,” Bernie admitted ruefully. “If I was still in town I’d have booked a massage, that used to do the trick.”

“Let me,” Serena said, before she could think better of it. “I’m not bad. At least, Elinor used to like them.”

Bernie shifted from foot to foot. “Well, if you’re sure,” she said after a moment, “that would be lovely.”

Serena slipped past her into the house. “Come on then.”

“What, now?!”

“No time like the present is there? It’ll help you feel better?”

“I suppose,” Bernie said and closed the front door.

“Living room? Go and make yourself comfortable.”

“I’m – I – Okay.”

Serena dropped the bag of organisational materials she’d brought into the kitchen and made her way to the living room. Bernie was perched uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa. She looked up as Serena came in.

“I need some help to lie down,” she admitted, “on the floor, not the sofa or I’ll never get up again.”

Serena offered Bernie her hands, and Bernie braced herself to lower herself down to the ground. Serena grabbed a cushion from the sofa and passed it to her to tuck under her head.

“Where’s it worst?” she asked as she knelt down next to her.

“Lower back,” Bernie mumbled, then let out a startled groan as Serena touched her gently. “That’s it.”

Serena took a deep breath. Bernie was only wearing a thin summer shirt and she could feel the heat of her body under her palms. But this had been her idea, after all. Carefully, she applied a little more pressure, felt the knots and tension in Bernie’s back, and set to work to ease them out.

Bernie was so slim. So soft, though Serena could feel the muscles that she’d built up in the army. She worked gently up Bernie’s back. At her neck she stopped for a moment to brush Bernie’s hair out of the way, fingers brushing her skin as she did so. Bernie let out a little sigh and Serena gulped, more than anything wanted to do it again, to hear that sound again. Instead she gritted her teeth and moved to Bernie’s shoulders. It was an awkward angle, kneeling beside her, and she thought that if she could straddle her it would be so much easier. She thought about Bernie between her legs, making that little sigh…

“S’rena?” Bernie mumbled, “Are you okay?”

Serena started out of her reverie, blushed despite herself. “Sorry,” she said. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she resumed her ministrations.  
“So much better,” Bernie said, “It’s lovely, thank you.”

Lovely was one way of putting it, Bernie thought, as Serena’s fingers worked over her shoulders. Her touch was sending electricity sparking through her and that touch on her neck had sent her imagination wild.

She shook her thoughts away impatiently. Her friendship with Serena was finally strong and lusting after her could only harm that. Serena was straight, after all.

Finally Serena’s hands ceased. “Well, there you are,” Serena said after a moment. “How do you feel?”

Bernie rolled her shoulders experimentally and turned her head so she could look at Serena, who was sitting back on her heels. “Brilliant. Could you help me up?” She held out her hand to Serena. Serena took it and god, her hand was soft. How had Bernie not noticed before? Soft and warm and her fingers so long and slender. Bernie gulped.

“Come on then,” Serena said, as though she hadn’t noticed Bernie staring at her, “Up you get.”

She tugged and Bernie rose to her feet with a groan. She hadn’t lied though; her back felt much better than it had for days. “Thanks,” she said and finally remembered to let go of Serena’s hand. “Shall I make us some coffee and we can get on?” She rushed from the room before Serena could answer, to soothe herself in the solid routine of making coffee.

Sitting across the table from Serena, both working their way through stacks of paperwork, Bernie couldn’t stop herself from staring at her friend. All her previous feelings of attraction had finally surfaced with a vengeance during that massage and now instead of considering how many staff the new medical centre outside Nairobi might need, she was distracted by the play of the sunlight in Serena’s hair, and the way that she nibbled her lip when she was thinking. Serena, deep in thought, began to toy with the pendant that she always wore. Bernie stared at it, at the neckline of Serena’s shirt, wondered how soft the skin there would be to touch…

Her earlier determination to push these thoughts away seemed doomed to failure.

Serena finished her last chart with a sigh and looked across at Bernie. Bernie had seemed very distracted all morning and Serena couldn’t help but notice that her stack of paperwork had not moved very much. “Can I help?” she offered.

Bernie jumped. “Oh. Um, this is my charity stuff. I haven’t even touched on the manor work yet,” she sighed ruefully.

“Well let me do it,” Serena said sensibly. “I know what I’m doing, it’ll take me much less time than you. It looks like you have enough on your plate as it is.” She smiled as Bernie gaped at her.

“Would you – would you really?” Bernie asked.

“Hand it over,” Serena stuck out her hand and as Bernie passed it over, their fingers brushed. Serena looked down hastily, in case Bernie noticed the tell-tale flush that spread over her cheeks. As she got stuck in to the manor files, the familiarity soothed her. She’d never been more than friends with a woman before, despite Fleur’s efforts. And Bernie – well. Bernie. She risked a glance at her. What was it about her? She was kind and brave and so, so beautiful, and Serena was desperate for her. She’d treated her awfully and been forgiven. Maybe she’d blown any chance she might have had. And she only had Fleur’s instinct to say Bernie was interested in women. It was all a non-starter.

Bernie breathed out deeply and tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. Oh yes, Serena more than liked her.

Bernie made a little more headway, now that the intimidating stack of manorial work was on Serena’s side of the table. She thought about the good that her charity was doing and managed to stop herself being distracted by Serena, for a little while, at least.

It wasn’t until her stomach rumbled that she realised the time.

“Time for lunch?” Serena suggested, a grin on her face.

Bernie laughed. “It must be. You will stay?”

“Of course I will,” Serena said easily.

“Mind you, I’m not sure what I’ve got in,” Bernie said with sudden worry. “I was going to shop yesterday and – well – you know what happened.”

“What about the pub?” Serena suggested. “It’ll do us good to get a bit of fresh air too. It’s a lovely day.”

“Pub it is,” Bernie agreed easily.

They strolled down to the pub, Bernie ever so aware of Serena a mere hand span away from her. They talked more about Serena’s ancestors, and Serena’s discovery that her cottage had been her ancestor Serena’s dower house.

“It makes me feel more connected,” she said softly, “Like I’ve still got something left. Jason wrote about how Serena renovated it herself.”

Bernie caught Serena’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’m glad,” she said sincerely. The smile that Serena gave her made her heart flip over, and it took an effort to let go of her hand.

In the pub, Serena ordered two glasses of wine with their meals. Bernie raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“It seems like a day to celebrate,” Serena said. She passed Bernie’s glass of red to her and they sat down at their table. “To our friendship, and to new beginnings.”

Bernie smiled up at Serena shyly. “Cheers,” she said.

* * *

“So we’re thinking of coming to stay. Me and Charlie.”

Bernie sat down with a thump, phone clutched to her ear. “You are?”

“You sound surprised. Don’t you want us?”

“Of course I do, Cam! I just thought you wouldn’t want to.”

“We’ll come up at the weekend, if you’re free?”

The front door banged, and Bernie covered the speaker with her hand. “I’ll be there in a minute, just on the phone.”

“And who is that?” Cam’s voice was softly amused. “Got company?”

“A friend,” Bernie said “She’s helping me out with some of the organisation that comes with this place.”

“Oh,” Cameron sounded less interested. “By the way, Charlie wants to ride when we’re up. Is there a stables close by we could visit?”

“I’ll ask Serena,” Bernie promised, “She knows everything around here.”

“Great. Well, we’ll see you soon mum.”

“See you,” Bernie said, and hung up the phone in slight disbelief.

She wandered into the kitchen, where Serena was unpacking several bags into the fridge and cupboard. “You shopped?”

“Woman cannot live on tins alone,” Serena said, and flashed Bernie a quick smile, “You need some fresh stuff.”

“But I can’t cook!”

“I doubt that.”

“I’m not very good at it,” Bernie amended.

“Well, I’ll teach you,” Serena offered simply. “Who was on the phone?”

Bernie grabbed a bag to help unpack. “It was my son,” she said. “Cameron. He and Charlotte are going to visit at the weekend.” She couldn’t help the smile that broke out on her face as she thought if it; her children, willingly visiting her, and their own idea too. “Charlie wants to ride. Would you help me? I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“With a horse is generally a good idea,” Serena dead-panned.

Bernie stood still for a second and then burst out laughing. “Seriously though,” she said as she recovered, “I don’t have a clue.”

Serena raised an eyebrow. “Riding lessons to add to the cooking lessons. It’s going to be a busy week.”

“Yes,” Bernie put a pack of strawberries in the fridge and paused. “I’m a bit nervous. It’s never been the easiest, with the kids. I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

Serena patted her arm sympathetically. “I know. I’m sure you’ll be fine. The fact that they want to come is a good start.”

Bernie covered Serena’s hand with her own. “Thank you.”

Serena stared at her for a moment, then smiled and moved to stuff her empty bags away. “We can go to my favourite stables tomorrow and get you on horseback.”

Bernie stared after her. “You’re serious?”

“We’ll have you in jodhpurs by the weekend,” Serena grinned.

* * *

Although Serena had been joking about the jodhpurs, when she went home that afternoon she thought over what she knew of Bernie’s wardrobe. There wasn’t really anything suitable for riding in it, so she called Sian.

“You want to borrow my jodhpurs, darling?” Sian’s voice was slightly incredulous.

“Not for me,” Serena said hastily, “For Bernie. I’m taking her riding tomorrow. She won’t have a chance of getting in mine but you’re similar builds.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line. “So you and Bernie are friends again now, are you?”

Serena twirled her fingers in the phone cable. “Yes,” she said. “We had a long talk and it helped.”

“And no more drunken pity parties on your end?”

“No. Look Sian, can you lend me them or not?”

“I’ll drop them over this evening,” Sian said, “And we can have a proper chat.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Sian delivered the jodhpurs with an impish smile on her face and Serena resigned herself to an evening of gossip.

“Just one glass,” Serena said as Sian dived into the wine store. “I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”

“Making a good impression on Bernie?” Sian raised her eyebrows as she poured them a glass each.

“To go riding,” Serena retorted.

“Yes, I suppose you’ve already made quite a few impressions on Bernie,” Sian said. “I hope some of them were good.”

“I didn’t tell you about closing the door in her face, did I?” Serena sighed, and sat down on her sofa. “It’s amazing that she persevered, to be honest.”

“But you’re friends now?” Sian asked.

“We are.” A little smile crossed Sian’s face and Serena sat up. “And what is that smirk all about?”

Sian held up a hand in defence. “Fleur reckoned you’d make up.”

“Hmm.” Serena frowned at her friend but then gave in, settled herself back and sipped her wine delicately. “That’s the stuff. Definitely to be savoured.”

“If you have to, I suppose,” Sian said with a sigh. “So why are you taking her riding?”

Serena laughed, and taking a sip, began to fill Sian in.

* * *

“This was not a good idea,” Bernie said, as she and Serena looked at the horses in Serena’s favourite stables. They were all so big! She was going to make a fool of herself. She’d already crammed herself into Sian’s jodhpurs, which fit, if snugly.

“They’re supposed to be snug,” Serena had pointed out, and Bernie had to admit that Serena’s pair was just as tight fitting. It was difficult to keep her eyes off that shapely behind, those gorgeous thighs…

“Don’t be silly,” Serena said bracingly, “You’ll be fine. Arthur is old and docile. The kids learn with him and he’s never let one drop yet.”

Bernie walked cautiously to Arthur’s stall and patted him on the nose. He did look very friendly, and he nuzzled her until she passed him the carrot that Serena had provided her with.

“Who’ll you have?”

“I’ll have this lad,” Serena said. She was at the next stall, passing an apple to the occupant. “This is Dom. He’s a bit highly strung but we have fun together, don’t we?” she said to the horse, and Dom whickered and blew down her neck.

Getting on Arthur was a bit of a palaver and only Serena’s sensible help and coaxing smile could get Bernie up there.

“There,” Serena said, as she tucked Bernie’s foot neatly into a stirrup. “Good to go.”

Bernie held back a gasp at the ease with which Serena swung herself into the saddle. Those thighs… she’d have some very enticing dreams that night, she thought.

They walked slowly into the field, Bernie finding the rhythm of the horse and rising and falling as carefully as possible to avoid hurting her back.

Serena seemed positively glowing with happiness. “I should have come back here ages ago,” she said to Bernie as they rode side by side. “Riding used to be my escape from Edward. I forgot how much I love it. Thank you for giving me the reason to come back.”

Greatly daring, Bernie took a hand off her reins and stretched out to Serena. She squeezed her hand gently. “You’re very welcome,” she said quietly.

“I want a run, do you mind? Just a couple of minutes. Arthur will look after you.”

Bernie nodded and Serena was off like a flash, cantering across the field. Bernie stared at her and wished that, one day, she could make Serena as happy as she looked right then.

“See, you were fine,” Serena jumped down from her horse and moved to help Bernie. “In fact, a bit of a natural. Charlotte will be impressed.”

“I might leave them to it,” Bernie admitted. “I’m – ow.” A dart of pain shot through her as she swung her leg over Arthur’s back.

Concern spread over Serena’s face. “Here, I’ve got you.” Bernie felt warm hands at her side. “Jump,” Serena murmured, and Bernie landed gently on the ground.

She turned around to find herself face to face with Serena and almost in her arms. “Thanks,” she said, suddenly breathless. For a second they stared at each other, and then Arthur nosed Bernie gently in the shoulder and Serena laughed.

“Sorry lad,” she said, “We’ll get you all sorted now.”


	9. Chapter 9

“This is an amazing place mum,” Cam said. He and Charlie pulled their bags out of his car and then stood looking at Bernie expectantly. “Well, are you going to give us the tour?”

Bernie restrained her impulse to hug them both frantically. Instead, she settled for a smile. “Yes, come on. I’ll show you your rooms and the rest of the house and then you can explore the estate. Some of the estate,” she amended, “It’s pretty big.”

“And riding?” Charlie pestered.

“Tomorrow,” Bernie promised, “My friend Serena will come with us, she’s an excellent rider and she’s been involved with the stables for years.”

“Thanks,” Charlie said genuinely.

“Right, you better come in then.”

The newly installed lift was ready and waiting but Bernie insisted that they walk up the stairs, for the proper experience. She gave them a little potted history of the house, pointing out the original manor house and the later extensions, and the spot where she’d found the old diary, that she’d given to Serena.

It seemed natural to talk of Serena. It had been her house, she’d taught Bernie all the history, but it wasn’t until Cam dumped his bags by what was, for the moment, his bed, and smiled at her knowingly, that she realised _how_ much she’d talked about her.

“So this Serena, mum. Just a friend?”

Bernie flushed. “Yes, just a friend. Am I not allowed friends?”

Cam and Charlie exchanged a look. “Course you are,” Charlie said placatingly. “We’re looking forward to meeting her. Can we go and look around the place now?”

“Off you go,” Bernie said, with a resigned smile. “I’ll get started on dinner.”

“What are we having?”

“Always thinking with your stomach, you,” Bernie grumbled, but she nudged Cam playfully. “It’s lasagne.”

Charlie stopped halfway out of the door. “Lasagne? You’re reheating a frozen one, right?”

“Cheek!” Bernie declared. “I’m making it from scratch.”

“But you don’t like cooking,” Cam said.

“I don’t mind it so much now,” Bernie admitted. “And it helps that I’ve got better at it. Serena’s been teaching me.”

“Oh, I see,” Charlie said vaguely. Then she turned to her brother. “Come on Cam, race you!” And she was off like a shot.

“Race you where?” Cam shouted after her, bewildered, but then he shrugged and clattered down the stairs after her.

* * *

Serena knocked at the door and smiled as Bernie swung it open.“Serena!” Bernie said gladly, “How nice to see you.”

“Thought I’d stop by and see how things were going,” Serena said, “And how the lasagne is doing.”

Bernie grinned. “You mean you’ve come to check I haven’t made a mess of it? It’s going quite nicely, thank you. Come and see for yourself.”

Serena followed Bernie through the manor and had to admit that the savoury smell wafting through it was quite enticing.

“Drink?” Bernie offered, when they reached the kitchen, and waved an uncorked red at her.

“Please,” Serena said. She slipped into a chair at the kitchen table and smiled at Bernie. “You look happy,” she remarked. She also looked beautiful, that glint in her eyes and her messy hair and those tight jeans… “Going well with the kids?” She said instead. Bernie nodded and pushed a glass over to her. Serena sipped and then gasped. “Bernie! That’s really good.” She glanced at the bottle. “Please tell me you haven’t been cooking with it!”

“I wanted it to be nice,” Bernie said defensively, and Serena couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m not sure the kids will tell the difference in a lasagne, to be honest. But – cheers.”

Bernie slipped into the chair opposite her and sipped her own. “It is good, isn’t it. I’m afraid it’ll just be you and me drinking it. Cam and Charlie are heavily into beer at the moment. You – you are staying for dinner, aren’t you?”

Serena blinked slowly. “I’d – won’t I be in the way?”

“You’re never in the way,” Bernie said softly.

Serena stared at her for a second and her heart thumped wildly. “Then, yes, please.”

It took a few more sips for Serena’s heart to resume its usual pace. “So what do the kids think of the place?” she asked, hoping her tone was normal.

“I think they like it. They’re off exploring at the moment,” Bernie said, “I expect we’ll hear all about it when they’re back.”

“It must be nice to have them around,” Serena said wistfully. It had been a long time since Elinor had been happy in the manor.

“It is.” Bernie’s fingers twined round the stem of her glass. “But I am worried that I might do or say the wrong thing and send them running again.”

“Try not to worry,” Serena said, and she reached out, gently untangled Bernie’s fingers. “It’ll be okay.” Bernie’s fingers were soft in hers and Serena couldn’t help running her thumb gently along Bernie’s index finger. Bernie gave a tiny little sigh and their eyes held for a second, but then the front door banged and Serena jumped, letting go of Bernie, and Bernie’s hands shot back to her own side of the table.

“Mum!” A young man barrelled into the room. “This place is incredible.” He stopped abruptly and Serena coloured under his curious gaze.

“This is Serena,” Bernie said. “Serena, this is my son, Cameron. And that’s Charlie,” she added, as a girl appeared behind him.

Serena studied the pair even as they looked her over. Cam was short and had Bernie’s slender build. Charlie was almost as tall as her brother and her features more closely resembled her mother. Serena was certain that Bernie must have looked exactly the same in her early twenties, all big eyes and blonde curls. Mind you, she thought, glancing at her, that was a fair description of her now.

“Nice to meet you,” Serena said politely, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“And some of it was good?” Cam joked.

“Some,” Serena winked, and grinned as Cam laughed.

“You taught mum to cook,” Charlie said. She opened a cupboard and rummaged in it. “Mum, can I have a beer?”

“All the beer is for you two,” Bernie said, “Serena and I have more sophisticated tastes.” She indicated the wine bottle. “What have you been up to?”

“Exploring,” Cam said. He took a bottle from Charlie and sat down next to Serena. “We’ve been up to the lake. I’d have loved this place as a kid. So many places to make dens and have campfires.”

Serena smiled at his enthusiasm. “I can show you the best places; that’s all I did with my summer holidays when I was young.”

“You lived round here?” Charlie asked.

“I lived here. I grew up in this house.”

“You must have been sad to leave it?”

Out of the corner of her eye Serena saw Bernie shaking her head minutely at Charlie. “It’s okay,” she said to Bernie, “I don’t mind.” She addressed Charlie,“I was. It was only a few months ago, in fact.”

Cam looked between Bernie and Serena. “That must have caused a few issues.”

“All in the past now,” Bernie said firmly.

“We’re the best of friends,” Serena added, and as Bernie smiled at her she felt her heart jump again.

The oven dinged and made them all jump. “Lasagne!” Bernie said.

“If you’ve taught mum how to cook a decent lasagne,” Charlie said fervently, “You’re definitely our friend too.”

Serena laughed and decided that she liked both of Bernie’s children very much. “Well, here’s hoping I did!”

* * *

It was a long and pleasant evening. The lasagne was excellent, as was the company, the wine, and, according to the kids, the beer. It was late when Bernie waved Serena off, borrowed torch in hand to light her way along the path. She watched her go, a dark shadow with a little spark of light bouncing along, then turned with a sigh back to the living room.

Charlie had already excused herself but Cam was still up, another half empty beer by his side.

“So,” he said when Bernie sat down. “Serena.”

“Serena?” Bernie asked.

“You like her,” Cam said plainly.

A wave of panic rushed through Bernie. “I – I – she’s a friend! Of course I like her!”

“Mum.” Cameron sat down next to her and patted her hand. “You can tell me. I don’t mind.”

“There’s nothing to tell! We’re friends. She taught me to cook.”

“Is that it? Really mum? Because I just spent an entire evening with you both.”

Bernie fought down the panic. “I like her." Time to admit the truth. "Cam… I more than like her.”

Cam leant against her and the weight was comforting. “I know you do. Idiot.”

“Watch who you’re calling an idiot,” Bernie said, trying to joke. “Is it – am I really that obvious?”

“Is it a bad thing if you are?”

“She’s my friend. My best friend. And she’s _straight_. She doesn’t think of me that way. I don’t want to scare her.”

“Hmmm.”

“What are you thinking, Cam?”

Cam patted her hand soothingly. “Nothing, mum. Don’t worry. Think I’m going to head off to bed now. Night.” He stood and headed for the door, then turned and winked at her. “Sweet dreams.”

* * *

“This is awesome,” Charlie proclaimed.

Serena watched as Cam and Charlie made friends with the horses at the stable, offering their hands to be nuzzled.

“It’s so lovely to be here,” Bernie murmured quietly to Serena. “It feels like a proper family outing. And the kids are so happy.”

Bernie was wearing the jodhpurs again and it was a struggle for Serena to keep her eyes off those long legs, those shapely thighs. “I’m glad,” she said. “Maybe one day I’ll get Elinor back out here too.”

“Less of a novelty for her, I suppose.” Bernie leant against the fence and Serena followed her, holding herself just away from that tantalising form.

They watched as Cam and Charlie were shown by the stable teachers how to saddle and mount their horses, and then they walked slowly out into the large field for their very first lesson.

“Charlotte’s a natural,” Serena said after they’d watched in silence for a few minutes.

“Do you think?”

“That seat, her posture, and you can tell she has an excellent connection with her horse already.” Serena turned to smile up at Bernie. Bernie dashed away a tear from her eyes and when she looked back at Serena, Serena could barely breathe for the emotion she saw in her face.

“Thank you,” Bernie said quietly.

Serena covered one of her hands with her own, squeezed it tightly. “You’re very welcome.”

They stood quietly together, Serena hardly daring to move, scared that she might frighten Bernie somehow. But then Charlie, in the distance, put her horse into a swift trot and Bernie climbed up on the fence to see better. “Go Charlie!” she shouted.

Serena let herself have one, long, lingering look at Bernie’s legs, and then she climbed up next to her to cheer Charlie on too.

* * *

After a full, exciting day at the stables, Bernie was more than ready to go home, peel off her jodhpurs and change into something fresher ready for their dinner reservation.

They’d all driven together and she pulled up outside Serena’s house and smiled at her. It had been a lovely day and Serena’s presence had made it even brighter.

“Well, bye then,” she said, awkwardly, aware of the presence of her children in the back seat. “Thank you for organising today.” Oh, it wasn’t fair for Serena to have a smile like that, that made Bernie want to drag her close and kiss her. Just a friend, she reminded herself.

“Aren’t you coming to dinner?” Cam demanded suddenly, leaning forward precariously in the gap between the two front seats to talk to Serena. “Come out with us,” he said.

“Yes do come,” Charlie added, “It’d be so nice. Our treat,” she said, gesturing at her and Cam.

Bernie stared at her children and then at Serena. “If – if you wanted to?” she said weakly, trying not to let her longing saturate her voice.

Serena stared back and Bernie couldn’t read her expression. Then she relaxed. “I’d love to, thank you.”

“We’ll pick you up in an hour and a half,” Cam said firmly. “Come on mum, let’s get going.”

* * *

Bernie frowned at her wardrobe. Suddenly her clothes for the evening seemed much more important. She pulled out her smartest black jeans, and contemplated her shirts.

“Mum?” Charlie poked her head round the door. “Not changed?”

“I can’t think what to wear,” Bernie admitted, feeling foolish.

Charlie joined her. “Not this one,” she said, tossing aside the long white shirt that Bernie was fond of. “You’ll look like a waiter in that and those jeans. What about this?” She handed Bernie a blue one with a deep v neck collar and thin yellow stripes.

“That’ll do,” Bernie said with relief.

“You look good in it,” Charlie said. “That’s what you’re worried about, right?”

“I’m not worried,” Bernie protested, then smiled a little. “More worried than I usually am about clothes. Sometimes I miss the army. Get up, put the uniform on. Nothing to think about.”

“Glad I could help,” Charlie said. Bernie slipped on her shirt. “Has Serena seen you in your uniform?”

“What?” Bernie stared at Charlie. “No, why would she have done?”

“Oh, I was just wondering.” Charlie headed for the door, then turned back and winked. “You should show her one day.”

Bernie frowned at her daughter’s disappearing back, then did up her buttons and considered her reflection. She’d do. She pulled a comb through her curls until they lay more neatly, then applied a careful layer of lip balm to her lips. She’d have liked to wear a little more make up but her children would have made comments, possibly in front of Serena.

* * *

Her children were up to something, Bernie thought, as she sat opposite Serena in the curry house. First they’d suggested that Serena join them, then they had sat down quickly at the table, forcing Bernie and Serena to sit opposite each other. Not that Bernie was complaining about the view: Serena was wearing a simple bright blue blouse but she’d put on more make up than she usually wore, and her eyes were shining in the candlelight. Bernie was sure the restaurant hadn’t been so dimly lit last time she was here but they they were, sitting with a candle between them and Serena’s eyes sparkling in its soft light. And her lips shimmered too. Bernie wanted to lean in, stroke them with her thumb, kiss them to find out what she tasted of…

* * *

The meal was good, although at the end of it Bernie couldn’t possibly have told you what she’d eaten. The kids chattered away about their university studies and every time Bernie looked up, Serena was smiling at her across the table, sparkling in the flickering light and she forgot to breathe.


	10. Chapter 10

“It’s been great mum, thanks.” Cam shoved his bag in the boot of the car, next to Charlie’s and slammed it shut. He wrapped his arms around Bernie in a fierce hug and Bernie closed her eyes and held him tight. “You’re going to tell Serena, aren’t you?”

Bernie drew back a little. “Tell her?”

“About how you feel?” Bernie shook her head and Cam squeezed her arms reassuringly. “Mum, she feels the same. Charlie!” He called as his sister appeared. “Tell mum what you said about Serena.”

“She’s crazy about you,” Charlie said. “Here, my turn.” She elbowed Cam out of the way and Bernie blinked back her emotion as Charlie’s arms wound round her. “It’s obvious. Can’t take her eyes off you, laughs at all your jokes.”

“Even the bad ones,” Cam added. “Mum, does she make you happy?”

Bernie swallowed. “Yes.”

“So tell her. Right,” Cam pulled Charlie to the car, “We need to get going. We’ll see you soon mum, okay.”

“Tell Serena we said bye,” Charlie shouted as she climbed in.

“I will,” Bernie whispered. She watched as Cam put the car into a fast reverse, span it precariously in the wide drive, and then shot off. “Drive more carefully, idiot,” she muttered to herself, and waved till the car disappeared in the distance.

She turned and walked slowly back into the house. The kids had given her a lot to think about, but still a part of her couldn’t believe it was true.

* * *

Serena was making a valiant attempt at some cleaning when Bernie appeared at her door. “Fancy a walk?” Bernie offered.

Serena downed tools thankfully. “Yes, please. Where were you thinking?”

It was a beautiful day, and as she closed the door behind her she tipped her head to the sun and inhaled gratefully. “Oh, I feel better already.”

“How about the lake?” Bernie suggested. “We haven’t been that way for ages.”

They strolled along quietly. Bernie seemed deep in thought, forehead furrowed whenever Serena glanced at her.

“Children get off okay?” Serena asked eventually.

“Yes, thanks.” Bernie smiled. “They said bye.”

“Did they have a nice weekend?”

“They said so, yes.” Bernie stopped abruptly and Serena was two steps past her before she realised, and turned questioningly. “It’s...” Bernie looked at her with an unreadable expression. “It was all thanks to you.”

Serena swallowed. “Not really. I organised the riding; the rest of it was you.”

Bernie smiled. “Well, thank you, all the same. I feel like I’ve got my kids back again.”

Serena felt that she would do anything for that smile. “Have they got plans to visit again?”

“During their next university break. And they’re coming to me for Christmas.”

“Oh Bernie, I’m so glad!”

Bernie smiled and ducked her head, and, as if she’d only just realised they were standing still, resumed her walk. Serena fell in beside her.

“Elinor?” Bernie asked tentatively.

“Oh, she’ll show up at some point,” Serena said, trying to brush it off casually. Her daughter’s continued absence hurt, perhaps even more so since Cam and Charlie had turned up. “She’s no great cook so she’ll probably come for Christmas, if just for a properly cooked turkey.”

“I see.”

They walked on again in quiet, up through the meadow, which was buzzing with bees and butterflies, to the trees surrounding the lake.

Bernie breathed a sigh of satisfaction as they came out onto the lake path. She didn’t get up here enough; her dreams of quiet walks in the countryside somewhat buried by reams of paperwork.

“Good to be here?” Serena laughed quietly.

“Isn’t it just,” Bernie said.

“Can you skim stones?” Serena darted to the shore and Bernie watched, amused, as she searched for the perfect stone.

“Oh well done!” Bernie said as Serena sent one skimming expertly over the water.

“One for you?” Serena held out her hand, another stone in it, and Bernie laughed and joined her.

“It’s been years,” she admitted as she took it. She threw it, but as she let go she knew she hadn’t got the action right and sure enough, it sank with a plop.

“It’s all in the wrist.” Serena passed her another. “Here, let me show you.”

Serena moved behind her and suddenly slender fingers wrapped around her own, and all Bernie could hear was the thud of her pulse in her ears and every nerve tingled with the way that Serena was holding her hand. Serena guided her through the action and somehow she managed to let go at the right moment and the stone went skimming neatly.

Serena’s hand dropped from her own and Bernie turned to find herself face to face with her.

“Serena,” she said, and she couldn’t stop her eyes drifting to Serena’s lips. “I was – I...” she couldn’t get the words out, just stood staring at her.

“Bernie?” Serena prompted softly.

Bernie took a step back. “I was wondering how the fete preparations were going,” she said, and she cursed herself silently. What a coward.

“Oh.” Serena was silent for a moment and Bernie wondered if that was a momentary flash of disappointment she had seen, but then Serena smiled and she was sure she’d imagined it. “Barely anything left to do. It’s next weekend, after all. You haven’t forgotten it’s next weekend, have you?” she said, only semi-jokingly.

“It’s on the calendar.”

“We’ll be setting up on Friday so we get all the big stuff out the way,” Serena said. She moved off round the lake and Bernie trailed her, wishing she could be brave. “Be prepared for vans arriving all day.”

“I think I’ll take the day off from doing any work then, it sounds distracting.”

Serena grinned, although it was an odd sort of grin. “Oh, you. As if you need the excuse!”

“True, true. You know, I’ve done a lot less work than I expected to when I moved.”

“The many distractions of the countryside,” Serena said with a laugh, as she ducked under a branch.

Bernie watched her, brown hair shining in the sunlight, as she slipped between the trees. “Countryside. That’s it,” she muttered, and then hastened to catch up.

* * *

It was finally Saturday morning. Serena had been busy all day yesterday and now, one hour before the fete was due to start, the last of the final details was in place and all she had to do was sit back and enjoy it. She needed a drink, but nine in the morning was too early to start, even by her standards. She cast one final glance over at the manor house, where, somewhere, Bernie was presumably getting ready, and then headed for home.

She changed, pulling on her brightest pink blouse for the occasion, and then settled down to relax with a fortifying cup of coffee.

“Serena?” A tap at the door was followed by a head poking through the open window.

“Fleur,” Serena said, with resignation. “Come in.”

“You don’t think I’d miss the fete? And I want to hear all the gossip.”

“What gossip? The most interesting thing that’s happened here recently is still Edward dying and me losing the manor.”

“Oh not Edward!” Fleur sat down beside Serena and elbowed her. “Come on, tell me. How’s Bernie?”

Serena sighed. “She’s fine, Fleur.”

“Looking fine, I bet.”

“We’re friends. I don’t want to talk about it.” She stared into her coffee mug as though it held secrets. “I thought – the other day – but then...”

“Very cryptic.” Fleur found Serena’s hand and squeezed, and Serena sighed. “You like her, then.”

“Have done for ages,” Serena admitted, and leant into Fleur’s embrace. “The other day – we had – a moment. I thought she was going to… well – she didn’t.”

“I can’t believe all these years of me trying to get you in touch with your sapphic side, and Bernie Wolfe goes and manages it in a few months.” Fleur sighed dramatically. “She’ll be at the fete, won’t she?”

“Has to be, she’s opening it. She nearly throttled me when I told her she had to give a speech.”

“Well, come on then, let’s wander over. It’s nearly time. It’s the social event of the year, we don’t want to be late.”

“Don’t mock me,” Serena grumbled, but she put her coffee down anyway. In the bathroom she neatened her hair, put on one last slick of lipstick.

“You’re trying to make an impression,” Fleur noted as she came out.

“In vain,” Serena sighed.

They walked over the newly mended bridge and down the footpath to the manor. Trees along the path, and road, were festooned with bunting and Serena could hear the hubbub of people already thronging to the fields.

“Serena!”

She turned to the manor to see Bernie hastening out of the door. Her jaw dropped. Bernie’s hair was pulled back into a bun. She was wearing a neat blue blazer with red lapels and her trousers were crisp and pressed. The blazer showed off her figure to perfection and Serena stood in amazement, taking in every inch of her. Fleur elbowed her and she snapped her mouth closed.

“Bernie,” she said, and was proud at how steady her voice was. “You – you look...”

“You said look official, and this is the most official thing I have.” Bernie gestured to herself. “Do I look okay?”

“Okay?” Serena croaked.

“You look fine, Bernie,” Fleur said. “Why don’t you go in with a pretty girl on each arm?” She grinned cheekily and Bernie laughed in response.

“Sounds good to me.”

“So you’re telling me,” Fleur murmured to Serena, “That you really don’t think she likes you?”

They were standing to one side of the little roped off arena. Bernie, in the middle, was holding a microphone and looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“She’s had plenty of chances to say something,” Serena muttered back. Then Bernie looked her way, pleadingly, and she smiled brightly. “You can do it,” she called quietly.

Bernie closed her eyes as if in prayer. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, and a quiet settled over the crowded fete.

Serena had given her a script to learn; a rehash of everything Serena had said over the past however many years. Bernie had memorised it perfectly, and Serena listened in admiration and something like pride. But, as she got to the point where she should have declared the fete open, Bernie went on a tangent.

“And I’d like everybody to thank Serena Campbell, who, despite me being the one making this pretty speech, has been the driving, and in fact, the only, force behind today’s event. I can safely say that without her, this wouldn’t have happened. Serena, thank you.”

Bernie clapped, and as every person in the field followed suit, Bernie smiled at her. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

The clapping died down, Bernie officially opened the fete, and people drifted off to all corners to examine the stalls.

“Well,” Fleur murmured in Serena’s ear.

“She was being polite.”

“Did you see the way she looked at you? Are you blind?” Fleur asked, exasperation colouring her voice.

“Shush,” Serena muttered as Bernie approached them.

“How did I do?” Bernie asked brightly.

“Perfect,” Serena said. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I did, you know I did.” Bernie said. She slipped her arm through Serena’s and Serena’s heart bounded. A sharp dig in her waist at her other side told her Fleur had noticed.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Fleur said, “Things to do, people to see. Or the other way round,” she winked, and slipped off.

“I like her,” Bernie said. “She terrified me, the first time I met her.”

“She has that effect on people,” Serena admitted, “But she’s one of my oldest friends, and an excellent one. She talks a lot of sense into me, when she isn’t trying to drink me under the table.”

“Speaking of drink,” Bernie nodded at the tent they were nearing, “I think you’ve earned yourself a Pimms. Come on.”

Bernie bought them each a glass, despite Serena’s protestations, and they wandered around the fete leisurely, enjoying their drink and the sunshine and the atmosphere.

“For my first fete, I have to say it’s an excellent one,” Bernie said to Serena, when they’d found a quiet spot under a tree, next to the stream, to sit down.

“It ought to be, all the work it takes,” Serena joked. With a sigh she lay down on the soft grass. “It’s worth it though, every year. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I’m going to have a go at the coconut shy later,” Bernie said. Serena looked up at her and Bernie grinned. “What, can’t I?”

The way that Bernie was smiling at her made her heart pound. If it had just been the two of them alone in the field, with her lying down and Bernie leaning over her, blonde and bright and the corner of her eyes crinkling… Serena’s imagination span away and she fought back to the present with some difficulty.

“Win me a coconut then?” she said eventually.

Bernie stood up and offered Serena her hand. “Only if you’re there to cheer me on.”

Serena grasped her hand and Bernie pulled her easily to her feet. They stood, hands clasped, staring at each other for a moment.

“Coconuts!” Bernie said, too brightly. “Let’s go.”

Serena laughed at Bernie queuing behind the small boys, but when Bernie’s turn came, she shrugged off her jacket and passed it carefully to Serena. She was wearing a short sleeved shirt beneath and her arms were brown and toned and Serena had to stop herself from licking her lips. Bernie selected her ball and threw it in one smooth, powerful shot at the first coconut. She hit it with precision and it bounced out of the stand. With four more shots she won four more coconuts, and Serena struggled not to actually drool over her. The man running the shy offered Bernie all the coconuts she’d won, but she only took one of them, with a laugh.

“For you, I think?” she said, offering it to Serena.

“Thank you kindly,” Serena said, accepting it. “That was a very impressive display, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Ah, years in the army has to be good for something, doesn’t it?” Bernie swung her jacket over her shoulder and offered her arm to Serena. “What shall we do next?”

At that moment, music in the arena began to play. “Maypole dancing,” Serena said. “Let’s watch.”

The children from the primary school were dancing, and as Serena watched them she was hit with a powerful wave of sorrow. Elinor had been that young once, still biddable, had loved having flowers woven in her hair and putting on a pretty frock, to do the traditional dances.

“Are you okay?” Bernie asked, worried.

“Just remembering Ellie doing it.”

“Look, it’s not my place,” Bernie said, and turned to face Serena, “But won’t you call her? Put things right?” She squeezed Serena’s arm and Serena nodded.

“You’re right, I should. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Good plan.” Bernie nodded, then turned back to the dancing. “Did you do this too? I bet you were an adorable child.”

Serena spluttered and her spirits lifted with a bound. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Aha! Are there photos? I hope there are.”

“Secret photos, in a secret location,” Serena said firmly.

“If you say so!”

* * *

By mid-afternoon, they’d exhausted all the stalls and paid several visits to the Pimms tent. They’d sat quietly in the sun listening to the bands and the choir and bought several bag-fulls of books, jams and flowers, all of which were carefully stacked in Bernie’s kitchen, with the coconut, to be sorted later.

“I’m hungry,” Bernie said, offhandedly. “I’d like something solid, not another cake.”

“We have eaten a lot of cake,” Serena agreed. “Pub?”

“Pub,” Bernie said, and her stomach rumbled.

After hours out in the summer sun, Bernie was thankful to step into the cool shade of the pub. “Oh, that’s better. What do you fancy? - No, I’m buying,” she said firmly as Serena tried to protest. “After everything you’ve done, the least I can do is buy you dinner.”

They sat opposite each other at a small table. Bernie was entranced by Serena, as she’d been entranced all day. They talked, and ate, and talked some more, and Bernie made up her mind.

“Fancy a whisky?” she asked Serena, as Serena finished her glass of wine.

“Why not?”

Dutch courage, Bernie thought to herself as she waited at the bar. By the time she got back to the table, she was dismayed to see that Serena had been joined by a crowd of locals. She passed Serena her whiskey with a nod and a smile, and leant against the wall to watch Serena laugh and chat with her friends. She was so beautiful, she thought. The way her eyes sparkled when she was enthusiastic about something, the way her lips curved up and that dimple that very occasionally showed and that Bernie wanted to kiss, so badly.

She downed her whisky and made her way through the throng. She managed to get close enough to tap Serena on the shoulder. “Come with me, will you?” she asked quietly.

Serena’s eyebrows raised but she nodded and excused herself from the crowd, and together she and Bernie made their way through the pub.

It was getting dark outside now, and the air was cooler.

“Walk with me?” Bernie led the way down the road, slipped into the churchyard. She’d not explored it much before, but on a Saturday evening it was a good bet that it would be quiet. And so it proved. She and Serena wandered past the graves as Bernie gathered all her courage to her. Finally, she stopped, and turned to face Serena.

“Serena,” she whispered. “It’s -” she took a step closer to her and Serena mirrored her. Bernie’s heart was pounding and she could hardly speak. Her eyes flitted all over Serena before finally she was able to hold Serena’s gaze. “It’s just...”

And then, wonders, Serena closed the gap between them and her lips were on Bernie’s and Bernie finally managed to move, wound her arms around Serena and pulled her closer and kissed her like she’d never kissed anyone. Serena’s fingers were in her hair and she tasted of whisky and she was perfect, absolutely perfect.

She could have kissed her forever, but eventually she drew back, without letting go of her. She met Serena’s eyes and read all the joy and relief there that she felt herself. She laughed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”

“Weeks!” Serena said. She stroked Bernie’s cheek and Bernie leant into the touch. “All these weeks, and this is the location you choose.”

There was laughter in her voice and Bernie laughed herself. “I know churchyards aren’t the most romantic of places.”

Serena chuckled. “Not just a churchyard, Bernie.” She nodded to the side. “Look!”

In the fading light Bernie could just make out the headstone. “Father, husband. In memory of Edward...” her voice trailed off. “Oh, Serena! I am sorry.”

“I’m not,” Serena’s arms were round her neck again and her body was flush against Bernie’s. “I’ve heard about dancing on graves, but this is much, much better.”

Her lips were almost on Bernie’s. “Oh, you!” Bernie whispered, and then lost herself in the joy of kissing Serena for the second time.


	11. Chapter 11

“Will you stop moping!” Fleur said, glaring at Serena. “Honestly woman. Have a drink. Relax!”

Sian poured Serena a glass of wine and pushed it towards her. “Come on.”

Serena toyed with the glass. “I just don’t feel like it.”

Fleur glanced at the calendar that hung on Serena’s kitchen wall. “You’ve got another week to go. You can’t carry on like this! When Edward used to go away you were delighted.”  
“Bernie isn’t Edward,” Sian pointed out helpfully.

“That is one of her charms, in fact,” Serena said, mustering a grin. “Definitely not Edward.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just miss her.”

“How’s she getting on?”

Serena leant over to her counter and retrieved a postcard. “Fine. She sent this, I got it last week.”

“ _Very busy, very hot. Good to be back doing some good. Miss you._ ” Fleur read. “A woman of few words.”

“You could say that. I wasn’t expecting a missive, but...” she sighed again. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“You can’t crack up after only three weeks of not being in the same country,” Sian said bracingly. “Drink.”

“I know you don’t believe this,” Serena said, “But alcohol is not the solution to all life’s problems.”

“Of course not, it just helps you forget about them for a bit. And you have changed your tune, haven’t you!”

A knock at the door saved Serena from thinking up a witty retort. “I’ll just get that.” As she hastened to the front door she wondered who would be calling at half nine at night. The usual suspects were, after all, already ensconced in her kitchen drinking her best wine.

She opened the door with a frown and stood stock still in astonishment.

“Surprise?” Bernie said with a sheepish grin.

“Bernie!” Serena threw herself into Bernie’s arms, clutched her tightly and kissed her fervently. Bernie held her tight, returned her fervour until they were both breathless.

“I missed you,” Bernie said, as she finally drew back.

“Well,” Fleur said, and Serena swung round, Bernie’s arms still around her, to see Fleur and Sian watching them from the kitchen door.

Behind her, Bernie huffed with laughter and leant her head against Serena’s. “Hello, you two.”

“I don’t think we’re wanted here any more,” Fleur said to Sian. “Shall we leave them to it?”

“We shall,” Sian agreed. “But we’ll take the wine with us.”

Bernie stepped into the house and Fleur and Sian disappeared down the path, arguing with each other over custody of the bottle.

Serena shut the door thankfully and turned to Bernie. “You’re really here?”

“I’m really here.”

Serena ran her fingers through Bernie’s hair, enjoying the feel of the curls. She looked her up and down, tracing her eyes over that beloved figure. “You’re so brown.”

“It was Africa,” Bernie said with a laugh.

“Sit down and tell me all about it,” Serena said, tugging Bernie over to the sofa. “Your postcard wasn’t exactly informative.”

Bernie sank down with a grateful sigh. “Oh, that’s comfy. I came straight here. Only stopped at home to have a wash to get all the travel grub off me. Come here, you.” She wrapped her arms around Serena. “Ah, that’s better.”

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” Serena said, leaning into her. “Oh Bernie, I have missed you.”

“I managed to get through everything quicker than I expected. I could have stayed longer but … well, I wanted to be somewhere else.”

“What was it like?”

“Beautiful. Hot. Challenging.” Bernie pressed a kiss to Serena’s head. “I’m glad I went out. But I’m even more glad I got to come back to you.” She traced her fingers down Serena’s arm to tangle their hands together. “Serena Campbell, I adore you.” She paused for a moment, biting her lip.

Serena longed to kiss her again, to lead her upstairs to her bedroom and let go of three weeks of frustrations. But she made herself sit patiently; Bernie clearly had something she wanted to say. “And… Serena?”

“Yes?”

“I was – wondering… if… I -”

Serena held Bernie’s gaze with a fond smile. “You haven’t had this much trouble getting your words out since the night we kissed for the first time.”

“And what a kiss that was,” Bernie said reminiscently.

“Bernie...” Serena nudged her, and squeezed her hand. “You were trying to say something.”

“Oh yes,” Bernie said. She took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me.”

She looked up at Serena through her fringe. “I’d understand if you didn’t want to, I know it might be-”

Serena cut her off by kissing her firmly. She pressed her head against Bernie’s, savoured the feel of Bernie’s breath against her cheek. “I love you,” she whispered, “And I’d love to live with you.”

A luminous smile spread over Bernie’s face. “I love you too. You make me… God Serena, you make me so happy. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” And then she yawned widely. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Serena laughed softly. “Come on then you, let’s get you to bed.”

They trailed up the stairs, hand in hand. Bernie laughed ruefully. “I imagined sweeping you off your feet, carrying you upstairs and...”

“And?” Serena raised a teasing eyebrow.

“Showing you a good time.” Bernie stopped and turned to Serena, kissed her gently. “But I’m afraid the only thing I can show you right now is how tired I am.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Serena said comfortably. “Just having you here is a treat enough. I’ve been thoroughly lonely.”

“With Fleur and Sian to keep you company?”

Serena opened her bedroom door and pushed Bernie gently inside. “Let’s be very clear, Bernie. I have not had either Fleur or Sian in my bed.” She sat Bernie down on her bed and tugged off her boots. “There you go.” She threw Bernie’s boots under her bed. “You go and get washed up. Your toothbrush is where you left it, and I’ll get your pyjamas. And then it’s time to sleep.”

Bernie smiled wearily. “Thank you.”

It didn’t take Bernie long to brush her teeth and get changed. Serena had a quick shower herself and by the time she’d arrived back in the bedroom, Bernie was tucked up in bed fast asleep and making little snuffling noises. Serena slipped carefully into the bed beside her. “Goodnight, Bernie,” she whispered, and then she rolled over, to drift off to sleep with the comforting warmth of Bernie beside her.

Serena woke unwillingly; she’d had lovely dreams of Bernie. She stretched and rolled over, to see Bernie smiling at her. “Oh,” she said, “You’re not a dream.”

“I’m not,” Bernie agreed, and brushed a kiss over her lips. “Good morning.”

“It really is,” Serena agreed. She pulled Bernie close, slipped her arm around her waist until they were pressed together. “Do you have anywhere to be?”

“Nowhere.” Bernie’s voice was husky and the look in her eyes made Serena melt.

She tangled her fingers in Bernie’s hair, teasing through her curls, stroked her thumb over her cheek, and kissed her hungrily. “Good,” she murmured.

* * *

“Are you going to miss it?” Bernie asked, slipping her arms around Serena’s waist, and Serena leant back against her while she surveyed the empty lodge.

“Maybe a little. It grew on me, after a while.”

Bernie nuzzled her nose into Serena’s hair. “We can always spend an odd weekend over here.”

“If we get bored of the manor?” Serena asked, laughing. “A holiday a whole field away?”

“Like camping,” Bernie agreed. “And the kids can use it when they come to stay. We can offer it to Elinor when she comes next month.” Elinor had actually expressed an interest in visiting, and Bernie was thrilled for Serena. Sometime they’d have to introduce all the kids to each other, but she’d worry about that another day.

She watched Serena lock the front door for the last time, then offered her her arm. “Shall we?”

They strolled down the footpath and over the now-sturdy bridge.

“This isn’t going anywhere,” Serena said with satisfaction, and stomped her foot down hard.

“It wasn’t much fun, falling through it.” Bernie still had nightmares about getting stuck in the stream, on nights that her back was particularly painful.

“Good for us, though.”

Bernie laughed and smiled at Serena. “Every cloud.”

It wasn’t long before they emerged on the manor drive. Serena stopped still and Bernie watched her as she studied the house, tears in her eyes. “Welcome home, Serena.”

“Oh, it is good to be back,” Serena whispered. “I could do without unpacking again, though,” she said a few moments afterwards, as they stood in the hall, boxes all around them.

“Why don’t I start in the kitchen, and you upstairs?” Bernie suggested. “We’ll get it done in no time.” She pushed a few boxes into the little lift and grinned at Serena. “See, it is good for something.”

It was a long, tedious few hours, but soon all that was left in the hall was the old picture of the first Serena and her Captain.

“Where should they go?” Bernie asked.

“They used to be hidden in the small bedroom at the back, because Edward didn’t like them,” Serena said, “But I don’t want to put them back there.”

“No,” Bernie agreed, “They deserve better.” She eyed the hall thoughtfully. “On the stairs?” Serena nodded and she smiled. “I’ll hang it later. I think we deserve a sit down with a cup of coffee now.”

It didn’t take long for the coffee to be made, and then Bernie led Serena outside. “You like this view so much, I thought I’d invest in this.”

“Bernie!” Bernie grinned at the look on Serena’s face. “That’s perfect! Why didn’t I think of that?” She sat down comfortably on the swing seat and smiled blissfully at the rolling countryside in front of her.

Bernie laughed. “Glad you like it. Now, budge up.” Serena shuffled up obediently and Bernie sat beside her, their hips and thighs brushing gently.

Bernie’s hand drifted over to Serena’s thigh. She traced her fingers slowly up and down, enjoying the soft feel of her and the little sighs that Serena made.

“I thought we were having coffee and a sit down?” Serena asked, but the look she gave Bernie suggested she wasn’t unhappy with developments.

“Drink up,” Bernie murmured. She abandoned her own mug and turned to press a kiss to Serena’s neck.

“Bernie!” Serena squeaked, “Wait a moment.” Bernie laughed into Serena’s hair while Serena put her coffee on the table next to her. “Well then, where were we?” Serena asked.

Bernie hummed as Serena’s threaded her fingers through her hair. “Have I ever told you how much I love you doing that?” She trailed her own hand up Serena’s thigh to the waistband of her trousers, slipped her fingers underneath her shirt to caress the soft skin beneath.

“Bernie,” Serena groaned.

Serena tasted of coffee and kissing her in the sun was heaven. Bernie had bought the sturdiest, most comfortable looking garden swing she could find and, as she sank into Serena’s touch, she hoped it would be up to the job.

For a while there was quiet, only contented murmurs and little sighs to be heard.

Bernie had undone half the buttons on Serena’s blouse, moved to kissing her collarbone, and Serena was squirming under her touch, when they were rudely interrupted.

“So this is where you two – oh!”

Bernie sat up and glared at Fleur. “Have you never heard of knocking?”

“We did,” Sian said. “You didn’t answer.”

“Because we were busy,” Serena grumbled, doing up the buttons on her blouse hastily. “It’s a good thing you’re my best friends.” She tugged her clothes neat and looked at Bernie. “Shall we get rid of them?”

Bernie sighed exaggeratedly and laughed. “They’re here now.” She winked at Serena. “I’ll make it up to you later.” Serena laughed in return and Bernie thought, not for the first time, how unbelievably lucky she was to have found her.

“We came to celebrate,” Fleur said. She proffered a bottle of champagne.

Serena raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Is that one of mine?”

“Would I?” Fleur asked, “Okay yes, I would, but this one I bought.”

“I’ll get glasses, shall I?” Sian glanced at the coffee mugs. “How sedate of you.”

“Cheers,” Fleur said, when they all had a glass of bubbly. “Here’s to the momentous occasion.”

Bernie chuckled. “Is the occasion Serena moving in with me, or her return to the manor?”

Fleur shrugged. “Either. Both.”

“I knew this was going to happen,” Sian announced. “I told you, didn’t I Serena? _You’ll be back in the manor before you know it._ ”

“I believe you mentioned something about a husband,” Serena said. “And you couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“You thought I was going to be some ancient red-faced man with a moustache, didn’t you,” Bernie chuckled.

“ _I_ knew you weren’t,” Fleur said, with a smug smile. “And I knew you’d be perfect for each other.”

“I thought you were after me, the first time we met,” Bernie said reminiscently. “You looked me up and down like you wanted to eat me.”

“Oh, Major,” Fleur purred, but then she laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t have said no to an offer, but I had a feeling you were just what Serena needed.”

“Devious matchmaker,” Bernie grumbled. She raised her glass. “To Serena’s triumphant return,” she said.

“Cheers,” Serena said, and kissed her.

It was late when Serena and Bernie finally headed to bed. They stopped off at the portrait. “I’ll hang it tomorrow,” Bernie promised. She picked up the portrait and inspected it closely. “Look – I never noticed this before. There’s some lettering in the corner.”

“Let’s see?” Serena leant in. “I can’t make it out.”

“Time for glasses, Ms Campbell?” Bernie teased. “Let me have some more light.” She peered at it. “ _Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us,_ ” she read.

“That’s beautiful,” Serena whispered. “And we have. We do,” she said earnestly to her ancestor.

Bernie lowered the portrait carefully to the floor. “We should do a matching one, to hang next to them.” She slipped her arms around Serena. “And who knows, maybe in a few hundred years time, somebody will be remembering us too.”

“We’ll have to do something worth remembering, then.”

Bernie kissed Serena long and slow. “How about living many happy years together?”

Serena smiled up at her. “That sounds good to me. And now, I seem to remember you promising to make earlier up to me?”

Bernie laughed. “So I did. Come on Serena, let’s go to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everybody for comments and kudos. They've made me laugh and kept me writing. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it and eternal thanks to Sev for the original idea :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Every version of us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26403934) by [fortytworedvines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortytworedvines/pseuds/fortytworedvines)




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